Is wine tasting perception or hallucination?

In 2001 I read in a Business Week magazine about some Hindu nationalists who trashed a couple dozen McDonald’s locations in India. This, in spite of the fact that out of respect for Hindu dietary restrictions, McDonald’s sells no beef products in India; only vegetable and lamb burgers. So what raised the Hindus’ ire? They had heard about a lawsuit in the U.S. brought by a group of vegetarians against McDonald's for flavoring their fries with a "natural flavor" derived from beef extract, which they unknowingly consumed.

What I found interesting about this is not so much the fact that the actual percentage of beef extract in a super-sized package of fries is reportedly just 0.000000000003%, but the fact that it was put into the fries precisely because the average person can perceive this flavor. The vegetarians and Hindus may have been upset because there was a negligible percent of beef in the fries, but they were also angry because McDonald’s was getting them to eat them by appealing to their raw, unconscious desire for beef!

In his book, Fast Food Nation, Eric Schlosser describes "flavorists" -- scientists who develop the miniscule chemical compounds used to flavor fast foods such as McDonald's fries, and virtually all the processed foods we consume today -- as "discreet, charming, cosmopolitan, and ironic." According to Schlosser, these are the sort of people "who not only enjoy fine wine, but who can also tell you the chemicals that give each vintage its unique aroma."

Like Schlosser's flavorists, oenologists – scientists who make wine – have long been aware of the fact that the aromas and flavors which distinguish a cabernet sauvignon from a merlot can be attributed to natural chemical compounds amounting to barely a few parts per trillion. For instance, the minty, often herbaceous character of cabernet sauvignon has been isolated to flavor components (grouped as methoxpyrazines) also found in bell peppers that the human palate can easily detect at approximately .02 parts per billion.

Ask an oenologist what gives the chardonnay grape its recognizable “apple” taste, and his answer might be ethyl-2-methyl butyrate. The taste of chardonnay after it goes through its natural malolactic fermentation and is barrel aged on its lees (spent yeast cells) probably derives its current popularity from minuscule proportions of diacetyl (the taste of "butter") combined with methyl-2-peridylketone (“popcorn”). This, in fact, is how many of the world’s chardonnays taste (albeit naturally, as opposed to being developed in the lab), and probably why so many people like it.


Whatever the case may be, even with little or no experience with given wine types, anyone who can enjoy the taste of McDonald's fries can learn to distinguish the various tastes of wines. All it takes is a nose, a decent memory and an interest fueled simply by your growing pleasure.

Or does it? The fact is, much of what we perceive as taste, particularly through the nose, may not actually be real, but illusory. In fact, recent research strongly indicates this; re:

• A paper published by Jeannine Delwiche of Ohio State University, conclusively demonstrating the difficulty of accurately distinguishing or describing wine through a study that showed how red and pink food coloring significantly altered the perception of a single, chardonnay based white. When we see a white wine, we think one thing; and when we see a red or pink wine, we think other things, even if they’re the exact same wine.

• Work done by Livermore and Laing in Australia (Physiology & Behavior, Vol. 65, No. 2) demonstrating that humans have great difficulty discriminating and identifying more than three odors at a time when aromatic compounds are mixed together.

So the question is: does someone who describes a pinot noir as exhibiting “smoky, gamy, forest floor, herb, fresh mushroom, meat, plum, fig and cherry characteristics” (to quote directly from a famous critic, reviewing a Sonoma grown pinot noir by Kalin Cellars) actually smelling every one these qualities, or merely hallucinating them?

Hold that thought, while I cite another study conducted and released in early 2008 by Antonio Rangel, an Associate Professor at the California Institute of Technology. Rangel asked twenty-one volunteers to blind-taste five different bottles of cabernet sauvignon and rate their preferences. The taste test was run fifteen times, and the wines presented in random order.

The only information given to the volunteers was price tags. However, two of the wines were presented twice; one with its true retail price, and the other with a fake price. They also presented one bottle that actually retailed for $90 as $10, and still another bottle that retailed for $5 as $45. To top it all off, according to the story, the dastardly researchers scanned the test subjects’ brains to monitor the “neural activity in the medial orbitofrontal cortex – an area of the brain believed to encode pleasure related to taste, odors and music.”

The results? Inflation of the price of a bottle consistently enhanced the subjects’ experience of it, as shown by the neural activity, and the volunteers consistently gave higher ratings to the more expensively priced wines. To quote Professor Rangel, “this study shows that the brain’s rewards center takes into account subjective beliefs about the quality of the experience… if you believe the experience is better, even though it’s the same wine, the rewards center of the brain encodes it as feeling better.”


Fact is, I do feel that experienced critics and wine judges can smell more than three things at a time, but at what point are even they simply influenced – involuntarily, like the volunteers in Rangel’s study – by their overactive imaginations rather than actual perceptions?

The answer: if a brain is sent pleasurable sensations related to, say, mushrooms, meat, and fruits or flowers, to a very large extent this plethora of sensations is very real indeed. Real enough, that is, for this individual judge or that particular critic; but more likely than not, probably not for you or I. Because when we taste the same wine, we are more likely to perceive different sensations, based upon our own neural proclivities and memories of previous tastes. Which is why the best way to evaluate wine is to keep an open mind, and judge for yourself. Sure, it’s okay to follow suggestions or recommendations; but in the end, the only valid perceptions and judgements are the ones that you make on your own.

Viñedos Emiliana: consciously organic, unconsciously world class

As a career wine professional, I’ve always approached every new wine the same way: by, first, suspending disbelief and preconceptions when looking at it in the glass, and then asking, does it taste good… are the aromas fresh, clean and compelling… the flavors rich, balanced, fine and elegant… or are they the opposite – dull, bland, rough or lean?


That’s it. No real science, except for the application of what Michael Broadbent calls a personal taste memory; mine's, accumulated over thirty-plus years of judging, buying, selling, writing about, and of course, enjoying wine.

Over the past year and a half I have been focusing on wines grown organically. Why? Because I believe that our lives hang in an ecological balance that demands proactivity; and covering and publicizing green wines is the best way I know how to contribute to that. We all do best what we love most.

The good thing about this is that not coincidentally, the wines I have always loved most are those grown and produced as naturally as possible. I happen to like wines that give off primordial scents, throw a little dirt on you, grab you by the collar and shake you around a little bit, before tossing you on the floor to roll around with pleasure. So hyping natural, green wines is an easy thing for me to do.

Still, the first duty of every wine, whether grown organically or not, is to taste good – or better yet, great – which is precisely what I was looking for when tasting the wines of Chile’s leading producer of organically and biodynamically farmed wines, Viñedos Emiliana. The first wine by Emiliana that I tasted, for instance, was the 2008 Emiliana NOVAS Limited Selection Chardonnay (about $17), from an IMO certified vineyard in Casablanca Valley, which I found to be lemony scented, rather puckery tart, narrow in flavor and hard in its dryness, almost exasperated by a food match of a fat, juicy roasted chicken. Ergo: if for puckery chardonnay you pine, cool; if not, best to move on.

On the other hand, I was quite taken by the second Emiliana white tasted: the 2008 Emiliana Natura Gewürztraminer (about $11), from Chile’s Valle Cachapoal, with its low-key yet rose petal-fresh, lychee-like fragrance and gentle, fruit-forward flavors balanced by a whisper of sweetness. And the fact that this wine is farmed 100% without chemicals? Makes it all the sweeter… just think walnut-pear salad in a mild Gorgonzola vinaigrette, a honey roasted chicken, or another roaster stuffed with red and green chile peppered rice.

But where Viñedos Emiliana really shines is in its red wine program; which comes as no surprise, considering that the winery and its estate vineyards (a staggering 3,080 acres in all) was founded in 1986 by José Guilisasti, a scion of the family that owns and operates Concha y Toro – arguably, Chile’s best known winery, long famed for its cabernet sauvignons, and in fact, one of the ten largest wine companies in the world.


According to Emiliana’s chief winemaker, Antonio Bravo (while passing through Colorado last month, November 2009), the reason for the founder’s commitment to sustainable, organic, and, most recently, Biodynamic® viticulture is social responsibility, pure and simple, in connection to a consciousness of the fact that today’s generation are but custodians of vineyards that will be owned and operated by future generations.

Guilisasti’s business philosophy, according to Bravo, “is based upon three pillars: profitability, respect for our workers, and respect for our natural resources.” All told, this profit oriented, yet chemical-free vineyard operation is by far the largest, most ambitious in the world. And when talking about what convinced him about Guiolisasti’s approach, Bravo echoes the sentiment of Napa Valley’s John Williams, the Fetzers in Mendocino, and other organic vignerons around the world in saying, with unconscious aplomb, that “organic methods lead to healthier soils, a healthier environment for the workers, and ultimately healthier grapes… and healthier grapes make better wine.”

So is Viñedos Emiliana making Chile’s best wines? I wouldn’t go so far; but pound for pound, and price per ounce, these three red wines are among the finest that I’ve tasted from this oft-underachieving wine producing country:

2007 Emiliana NOVAS Carménère/Cabernet Sauvignon (Valle de Colchagua; about $17) – Black purplish color; rich, chile spiced sweet berry fruit aroma; fleshy medium-full body filled out by firm tannin, with the generous, sweet berry flavors wrapped in toasty/smoky oak and the spiced nuances emanating from a plump, round center. Over lunch with Bravo, an absolutely seamless match with a mildly peppery arugula salad, tossed with Parmigiano, pine nuts and a soft, winey vinaigrette.

2006 Emiliana, COYAM (Valle de Colchagua; about $25) – The husky, no-less-sizeable “little” brother to Emiliana’s crème de la crème bottling, called Gê; and like the Gê, superbly crafted to express the character of the Los Robles Vineyard, the heart and soul of the Emiliana plantings, rather than any one or two grape varieties. Composed of syrah (34%), merlot (31%), carménère (17%), cabernet sauvignon (12%), malbec (3%) and mourvèdre (3%), COYAM is biodynamically farmed, and bottled unfined and unfiltered (in the latter sense, also qualifying as vegan). As it were, the dominance of syrah seems to give this wine its wild, meaty quality; the carménère a pungent, peppery, almost chile spiced aroma; the cabernet sauvignon, a blackberryish, almost cassis/liqueur-like, tannin laden concentration, rounded by the velvet, textural richness of merlot and malbec. Even for an Andy and an Abe, you get more than your money’s worth in this world class bottling.


2005 Emiliana, Gê (Valle de Colchagua; about $75) – Given a Greek name (Gê) for “earth,” this is a super-powered blend of two spice varieties – carménère and syrah (30% each) – buttressed by cabernet sauvignon (24%) and merlot (16%). It is also the first South American wine to be grown by certified Biodynamic® standards (although the Demeter seal does not appear on the label until Emiliana’s 2006 bottlings). The nose is tight yet hugely concentrated, suggesting blackberry, dried plum/fig, and, unmistakenly, a smoky cigarbox. On the palate, thick, musclebound, velvet textures burst at the seams with smoky, juicy, black and blue fruit sensations which only seem to broaden with a match like gamey lamb with rosemary potatoes (which, in fact, was what Bravo and I enjoyed with the COYAM and the Gê).

Green without tears: the wines of Organic Vintners™

Organic Vintners™ (organicvintners.com), based in Boulder, Colorado, carries a solid, internationally sourced book of 100% certified organically grown wines, no exceptions. That is to say, not even so-called “sustainable” wines, with their more nebulous (i.e. just theoretically “organic”) standards, make it into OV’s porfolio. For more on the differences between organic and sustainable viticulture, re War Between the Greens.


But there are other really cool things about their wines:

• Organic Vintners’ guaranteed quality standards are pretty darned good (keep in mind, these are not sloppy, funky unsulfured wines, but wines made from organically grown grapes). As someone who has been buying and selling wine professionally since 1978, I can say that their collection of imported and négociant style wines is as good or better as any others’.

• The bulk of their wines retail between $10 and $22; totally dispelling the myth that certified organically grown wines are more expensive.

• OV ships to your door in nineteen states (including within Colorado) plus D.C.

• If you’re a vegan, OV is for you because they go through the effort to make sure that almost all of their wines are fined or filtered without the use of any animal product.

• If you are sensitive to sulfites, it’s good to know that standards for wines made from organic grapes specify that added sulfur does not exceed 100 parts per million (note: at least a little added sulfur is necessary to stabilize wines of dependable quality).

Enough of that, let’s talk about the wines; in order of my favorites (with approximate retail prices, which will vary among markets), and all qualifying as vegan:

RED WINES

Organic Vintners, Pinot Noir 2007 (Mendocino, California; $22) – Even at $22, this is a steal; a pinot of fresh, lovely varietal purity, expressing kirsch-like black cherry fruitiness in the nose, with suggestions of strawberry and fresh plucked sprigs of peppermint. On the palate, neither big nor light-weight; but rather, velvety smooth in a light-medium body, amplified by juicy, spiced berry flavors, unimpeded by soft tannin.

Château de Bastet, Côtes du Rhône Cuvée Spéciale 2007 (France; $23) – You’ll find a number of $12-$16 Côtes du Rhônes on the market these days; but as pricey as the Château de Bastet may seem by comparison, this is an exuberantly rich, perfectly rounded, certified Biodynamic® estate bottling, with an elevated sense of terroir: namely, the mix of pepper spiced strawberry, floral/violet and distinctly smoky qualities (despite the unoaked élevage of this 50/50 syrah/grenache blend), wrapped in a round medium body, neither light nor heavy in its earthen berry flavor.

Nuovo Mundo, Cabernet Sauvignon/Malbec 2008 (Maipo Valley, Chile; $17) - A purplish ruby colored 50/50 varietal blend, showing the qualities and characteristics of both grapes: the blackberry/toffee-like density of the malbec on top of the dried berry as well as leafy green, chamomile tea-like complexity of cabernet. On the palate, the wine is medium-full and thickened by rounded tannin, without tasting heavy; the leafy notes taking on earthy, mulchy qualities, and the blackberry flavors turning cassis-like towards a medium intense finish.

Almagre, Tempranillo 2007 (Rioja, Spain; $16) – The joy of many of Spain’s reds made from the native tempranillo grape (this bottling blended with 10% mazuelo, a.k.a. cariñena) is its deep, multifaceted, yet consistently smooth, balanced character. Here, a bright, fragrant berry aroma (raspberry/strawberryish) is tinged with earthy, brown kitchen spices (suggesting cardamom, allspice and vanilla bean). The spiced berry qualities are soft and round on the palate, finishing with a flavorful ease.

Can Vendrell, Cabernet Sauvignon/Tempranillo 2006 (Penedès, Spain; $15) – After an initial whiff of sulfides (which volatilize fairly quickly with swirling in a large glass or decanter), a handsome nose of blackcurrant/cassis-like berries and tobacco-like smoke predominates in the nose; the wine’s medium weight body buoyed by a nice balance of silken texture, soft underlying tannin, and fresh, zesty edge.

Ventura, Malbec 2007 (Lontué Valley, Chile; $10) – You won’t find a lot of Chilean malbecs around; nor any from anywhere at this ridiculous price. But forget the bargain fare, because this wine stands up just fine as a malbec of any class, with its plump, fleshy, well ripened, sweet blackberryish fruit; its medium-full body grounded by firming medium tannin and the caramelized, meaty qualities of the fruit on the palate.

Pircas Negras, Cabernet Sauvignon 2008 (Famatina Valley, Argentina; $12) – This is a soft, slightly fat style of cabernet sauvignon, but well within scale: its moderately intense mix of red berry and black licorice flavors having a clean, honest, unfettered sense of immediacy – plenty enough to fill an easy textured medium body.

Giol, Merlot 2008 (Veneto, Italy; $17) – If you’re into the fruit-forward qualities of merlot, here’s a screwcapped bottling of organic/vegan lineage: bright red cherry aroma encased in soft leather and scrubby, dried herb bunch notes; the zesty fruit and easy tannin/body tinged with tobacco-like qualities on the palate.


WHITE WINES

Pircas Negras, Torrontés 2009 (Famatina Valley, Argentina; $12) – Torrontés makes such effortlessly flavorful wines, its reputation as an obscure, second-fiddle member of Vitis vinifera (the European family of ultra-premium grapes) seems almost absurd. Everything you want in a white wine is here: a fine balance, and intense complexity of fragrances, and a mouth-watering fruitiness underlined by zingy acidity. In this case, a floral, tropical nose suggesting tropical flowers, lemon-lime freshness, floral Asian spice, and hazelnut-like tones; followed by a lithe, airy, lightly tart, easy body lifting the barely off-dry fruitiness (just whispers of sweetness), which finish with a gingery, white pepper-like spiciness.

Giol, Pinot Grigio 2008 (Veneto, Italy; $17) – Classic perfumes of lavender, citrus and stone fruit (nectarine/apricot) in the nose, and properly light, smooth, lemony dry, crisp edged and balanced on the palate.

Ventura, Chardonnay 2009 (Lontué Valley, Chile; $10) – A tropical fruit aroma is at first pineappley, and then suggestive of mango, peach, and white flowers. So if there ever was a backyard/hammock-appropriate chardonnay, this would be it (or a way of enjoying a bottled fragrance of summer in the winter). Dry and light-medium bodied; the tropical fruit qualities moderately crisp, fresh, and lively.

Nuevo Mundo, Sauvignon Blanc Reserva 2009 (Maipo Valley, Chile; $16) – Floral, perfumed nose of violet and grapefruit, with a leafy green herbiness peeking out from underneath; extra-dry, light, lemony tart edged varietal qualities on the palate.

The positive taste of brett in wines and food matching

The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast. One of the controversies that emerged in the 1990s concerns an extremely common, but often glossed over, taste factor in wine called Brettanomyces; often shortened to “brett” in the parlance of winemakers.


Brett is basically one of the many natural species of yeast that begins to make its presence known in red wines after fermentation, while they are aging in the barrel. Although I have found few vintners anxious to discuss it, the winemaking community has long known that Brettanomyces, more than anything else, is largely responsible for the earthy, leathery qualities long associated almost exclusively with European wines, although it is by no means foreign to New World wines.

During all my years of California wine judging, in fact, picking out wines with subtle or excess brett has been as routine as picking out wines with notes of volatile acidity, oxidation, madeirization or hydrogen sulfides. Not too long ago, many wine writers and restaurant/retail professionals were still shamefully misrepresenting this attribute to consumers as aspects of terroir or climat – that is, resulting from unique environmental conditions of specific regions and vineyards – and would speak of it in reverent, and sometimes even mystical, terms.

The “glove leathery” nuances found in red Burgundy, the “sweaty saddle” common in Spanish reds and South-West French reds (like Ribera del Duero, Rioja, Madiran and Saint-Chinian), and even the handsome, leathery complexity common to many of Bordeaux’s grand crus: all of this is essentially the manifestation of a component that oenologists generally classify as a “spoilage” yeast. At worst -- when left uncontrolled in wineries (judicious use of sulfur dioxide is the most effective method of suppressing brett) – Brettanomyces laden wines begin to taste “mousy” or metallic, or else barnyardy and all-too-often, manure-like.

Brett is common to wines coming out of fairly new wine growing regions – like many cold climate grown New Zealand and Australia pinot noirs – where winemakers are just beginning to get a handle on their craft. Yet strong leather, even manure-like manifestations of brett are also common to fairly well established regions, among new and old wineries alike. Examples: cabernet sauvignons coming out of Chile (like the ultra-premium Errazuriz and Domus Aurea), Australia’s Barossa Valley (Torbreck, one of the better known of those producers), as well as California (from Robert Mondavi to Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars). Château Musar from Lebanon’s Bakaa Valley – one of the darlings of the British wine trade – is particularly rife with this character. Even more distressing is the fact that many of these high brett wines retail in the $50 to $100-plus range – as if having this stinky “European” taste qualifies for ultra-premium pricing!

In the nineties Brettanomyces became something of a controversy within winemaking circles when more and more New World producers began to supplement their technology with traditional, Old World methods of vinification: particularly things like natural yeast fermentation, minimal sulfuring and cellar intervention, and greater tolerance of high pH levels (the level of wine’s acidic strength) than previously accepted. In wine judgings, as a result, we would find higher incidents of brett in categories such as “small production pinot noir” (case productions of, say, 500 or less). The goal, of course, was to utilize European style handcrafting to achieve more intense, unbridled natural flavors, particularly when sourced from special vineyards. Letting the terroir, so to speak, speak more loudly in the glass.

I would often find these small batch wines to be very attractive, but many others the opposite – almost repulsive. Why would many vintners deliberately skirt the fine line between subtle and excess brett; between love and hate? My personal theory: because wine writers tend to have a higher tolerance of brett than ordinary consumers (who usually believe whatever writers tell them anyway). If wines that retain, say, French-like or “rubber boot” qualities garner higher ratings from certain well known writers, why not? Do the math: high scores + critical success = greater demand, higher prices and financial success.

This is why you might read about, say, a 2006 Château Grand-Puy-Lacoste ($40-$80 current retail) that is rich, velvety, full of cigarbox and blackcurrant fruit, but also positively oozing with barnyard animal-like aromas and flavors. Yet all you read from Robert Parker (who gives it a 92) are words like “classic crème de cassis,” “pure personality,” and “beautiful density.” Jancis Robinson (who gives it 17.5 out of 20) chimes in with phraseology like “overlay of spice” and “all-over-the-palate experience.” But nary a word about the obvious brett. Why? Like I said, I think most of the better known wine writers either don’t smell it or just don’t care when they do. It’s bad enough (if you don’t enjoy the smell of barnyards in wine) that they’re swaying you by meaningless numerical scores; but when they don’t even mention it in the descriptions… don’t get me started!

Not all writers, of course. One of the more vociferous critics of brett when it occurs in California wines has been Ronn Wiegand, an influential MW/MS. One morning he told me, “As far as I’m concerned, Brettanomyces is a serious flaw that tends to blur grape and regional distinctions. I never really liked it in French wines, and I certainly don’t think it belongs in California wines.”

There has to be some irony to the fact that after many years of being compared unfavorably to French wines, California wines are being knocked when they taste too much like them. David Ramey (pictured, right), one of the California winemakers Wiegand admires most, once shared this perspective with me: “In my experience wines that are known to be made as naturally as possible, like France’s Beaucastel and Pichon-Lalande, are often found to taste ‘better.’ No question, Brettanomyces plays a part in these wines - so where’s the problem?” At the same time, however, Ramey makes it very clear that "it's not a wise commercial policy to make wines with brett for the American market, so we have a zero brett policy here at Ramey Wine Cellars, despite working with native yeasts, high pH's and bottling unfiltered -- the classical means of elevage include techniques that eliminate brett in one's cellar."

Tony Soter, one of the winemakers I admire most, and whose wines at Etude were never been accused of being French-like, takes a more tolerant stance: “This is a sad issue, because it takes all the mystery out of those great French wines that, frankly, I love.” As for his own wines, Soter admits, “I’ve played with Brettanoymyces, although at relatively low levels, because it does compliment a wine somewhat. The point, however, is that ultimately it should be wine drinkers, not writers, who should decide what they like, and whether brett in a wine is good or not.”

In one of his old newsletters (now compiled in his book, Inspiring Thirst), Kermit Lynch went so far as to say that the opposite of a "bretty" wine is the type of sterile, unnatural wine he has long decried, calling the nitpicking of wines with animal, underbrush, leather or even barnyard aromas an insiduous "Attack of the Brett Nerds." Lynch has plenty to beef about because knee-jerk reactions to brett are often confused with earthy yet enthralling manifestations of garrigue - in Southern French wines in particular, time honored distinguishing marks of terroir - with this spoilage yeast; which is easy to do because of sensory similarities (for example, simply rub a twig of fresh rosemary between your fingers, and you'll retain an animal-like smell on your fingers that is pungently organic, and most definitely not brett-related).

And in fact, besides Beaucastel and Pichon-Lalande there are many, many other wines of the world that are produced with subtle qualities of brett that amplify, and thus improve, natural fruit and other organic elements, adding up to magnificent expressions of terroir: for me, the mysteriously deep, dark Madiran by Château Lafitte-Teston immediately comes to mind; so does the massively scaled Domaine de la Granges de Peres from Languedoc, the spice-box scented Gigondas by Domaine du Cayron, the magnificently deep reservas of Spain’s Tinto Pesquera, the powerful yet pillowy textured Falesco Montiano by Italy’s ingenius Riccardo Cotarella, Antinori’s legendary Tignanello, and on the home front, Randall Grahm’s groundbreaking string of Bonny Doon Le Cigare Volants… the hits go on and on.

How does that song go? If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right… so maybe we need to take the bull by the horns, and talk about how we can match foods with the finer brett laced wines of the world, working with the yeast to come up with something even more exciting.


IDEAL FOOD MATCHES FOR BRETT NUANCED WINES WE HAVE LOVED

Not only is Brettanomyces a welcome complexity in many wines, its presence can make for some interesting food food matches. Some guidelines and experiences:

• First, there is probably nothing you can do from a culinary perspective with wines in which brett is way over-the-top – riddled with a pervasive aroma of leather to the detriment of fruitiness, or else a basically unpleasant, barnyardy stink. Excess brett – like excess alcohol, acid, volatile acidity, tannin, oak, or any other elements – will not make a dish taste better, and nothing you can do to a dish might make the wine taste better (and for you “breathers” out there: no amount of time in a decanter will rid a wine of stink either). Unbalanced wines of any sort always have a low percentage chance of working with food.

• However, wines with subtle brett qualities can be quite useful. I’ve enjoyed softer, moderately scaled reds with leather or even gamy undertones in seafood settings; particularly fish or shellfish with strong marine notes of earthy quality. Who wouldn’t, for instance, prefer a light, snappy sangiovese based red over any white wine with pasta and mussels in an herb scented tomato sauce? Earthy red Bandol is often served with bouillabaisse laced with saffron (one of the most complex earthen spices of all) to delicious effect, especially with dabs of garlicky aioli; and in the Bay Area, I’ve enjoyed some funky, small batch pinot noirs with The City’s many variations of earthy and saline cioppinos.

• For deeper, sturdier red wines (like cabernet sauvignon, syrah, or Southern French style blends) tinged with brett, gamy meats like venison and leg of lamb are no-brainers, and meaty birds like squab, pigeon, Muscovy duck and even goose are not a bad idea either. But you can play with lightly gamy notes in a wine with any meat, gamy or not, with the use of earthy ingredients such as wild mushrooms, organ meats, bone marrow, lardons or pancetta, homemade sausages, horseradish and fennel, root vegetables, earthy varieties of Chèvre, cumin and tumeric, and in more elegant settings, truffles (and truffle oil), foie gras, or with creative use of the trufflish Mexican delicacy, huitlacoche (corn smut, which I once enjoyed in a ravioli with crimini, spinach and achiote chili sauce).
  

• Use of pungent, fatty or chewy organ meats — like tripe (especially cut thick, as in meñudo), liver, kidneys, sweetbreads, tongue, beef tendons, and the rind, belly, feet, chitterlings, trotters and head meat of pork – are all of the right textural and aromatic “stuff” for earth toned wines.

• Just as use of fruit (fresh or dried) in dressings, finishing sauces, or condiments compliments a gamy meat, it goes a long ways towards brightening the fruit qualities of red wines with low key brett. Vegetables that are naturally sweet (like beets and yams) or slightly sweetened (squash and onions) can do the same.
  

Some brett-laced wine and food matches we have known and loved:

• In Berkeley, a succession of mildly gamy 20 year old reds (a Chave Hermitage, followed by a Vieux Télégraphe Châteauneuf-du-Pape and Domaine Tempier Bandol) with a potato casserole generously layered with black truffles

• At the Joel Palmer House in Dayton, Oregon, a pungent, essence-of-wild three-mushroom tart with a soft, fragrant, yet distinctly leather glovish Adelsheim Willamette Valley Pinot Noir

• In a South Australian wine country restaurant, a lamb’s brains in mustard sauce with a wildly earthy Rockford Basket Press Shiraz

• At Bay Wolf in Oakland, a ravioli of wild mushrooms and spinach in an aromatic porcini broth with a lush yet meaty-game nuanced Au Bon Climat Santa Maria Valley Pinot Noir

• At Matsuhisa in Aspen, an ankimo (monkfish liver) paté with caviar and a bright strawberry, blackberry, pepper and leather laced Torbreck Juveniles (Barossa Valley grenache/shiraz/mataro)
  

• At home in the Islands, an oyster stuffed game hen in a ragout of giblets, onions and porcini with a leather-on-lace Allegrini La Grola Valpolicella

• In one of our Island restaurants, a lusty confit of duck, roasted garlic and offal in a white bean cassoulet with a mild but pungent, unsulfured, unfiltered, un-nothinged Morgon by Foillard

• In my most recent home in the Rockies, a simple cube steak pan roasted with alderwood smoked salt, cracked pepper and sweet-hot paprika – and finished with a smothering of shallots, mushrooms and red wine deglaze – with Spain’s Dehesa la Granja, brimming with sweet blackberry coated in leather and roasted meat

• Home again in the Rockies, a saddle sweat scented cumin laced ground bison chili served with Hebrew National dogs and Cheddar; finding a natural match with a virile, suede nuanced and textured Altos las Hormigas Malbec from Argentina

• One final home remedy – spinach pasta with chopped chorizo and sweet onions in classic, Italian herbed tomato sauce and generous shavings of earthy Pecorino, washed down with a zesty, leather wrapped cherry toned Peppoli Chianti Classico by Antinori

But maybe you don’t dig snails, monkfish liver, lamb’s brains, cioppino, or the taste of Brettanomyces in your wine. That’s your call. After all, in the end that’s all that matters.

Kermit Lynch, the original wine adventurer
(photo by Peter DaSilva, The New York Times)

Cabernet sauvignons past & present, and the foods we love to eat with them

I’m absolutely sure that every wine professional who cut his or her teeth on California cabernet sauvignons from the seventies and eighties remembers things differently. For me, it’s still like yesterday, since these were the days when, for me, blind and double-blind tastings ruled the day. We didn’t “score” wines then (I obviously still don’t, to this day… an unnatural act then, and even more unspeakable now!), but we did rank them, and discussed them for hours and hours at a time.

During perhaps the most interesting years, when the seventies transitioned into the eighties, California cabernet sauvignon was evolving into a richly aromatic, yet round and elegantly structured style of wine. The models then were the older classics like Beaulieu’s Georges de Latour Private Reserve – invariably, everyone’s ideal – along with then-newer classics like Robert Mondavi’s Reserve, Ridge’s Monte Bello, and Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars’ Stag’s Leap District (the latter, fresh off its “victory” in Paris in 1976).

At the turn of the eighties the cabernet sauvignons of Silver Oak, Joseph Phelps, Laurel Glen and Jordan were still fairly new “upstarts”; and our judgements of them, invariably mixed, but generally positive. We found that Chappellet, Freemark Abbey, Chateau Montelena, Sterling, and even the vaunted Heitz often rendered interesting, if aggravatingly inconsistent, cabernets inviting as much debate as dismay. On the other hand, Caymus’ Special Selection was already carving out its iconoclastic niche, Beringer was just beginning to get its act back together again, and Mayacamas typified a growing number of hillside growths appealing to those who didn’t mind inky black wines of gaudy girth, destined to never grow up (we knew that, even then).

The great André Tchelistcheff, Beaulieu Vineyard

These times were particularly interesting for guys like me, making repeated trips to the West Coast to witness an industry undergoing dramatic change: most significantly, the steady cabernezation of Napa Valley (out with the chenin blanc, zinfandel, riesling, et al.), the transitioning of vines from the old California sprawl to incomparably more efficient vertical or horizontal shoot positions (in my mind, the single biggest factor effecting transitioning styles in the bottle), and everywhere you looked, the appearance of chardonnay, pinot, merlot, etc. in fields where only cow pies, orchards and woodlands once existed.

But you know what I liked best about the years before and after the turn of the eighties? These were good days for working sommeliers because California cabernet sauvignons were still largely seen, and presented as, ideal “food wines” – full and rich enough to satisfy true-blue red wine lovers, yet soft and fruit-forward enough to drink with a wide range of dishes. Even when young – you could take home most newly minted ultra-premium cabernets and enjoy them guilt-free that night!

In stark contrast, it was red Bordeaux that was criticized for being more of the wines that you collect rather than drink: hard, largely green and underripe, typically severe with tannin and even excess oak – very food-unfriendly, especially in youth. Indeed, these were rough times for many of the Bordeaux grand crus, just beginning to reassert themselves after a string of lean or tough vintages going back to the sixties, and the painful transition from a generation of neglectful proprietors, many of them still coasting on the region’s reputation (with little incentive to embrace viticultural and oenological advances).

In 1984 the Democrats (what’s new?) were fighting among themselves, asking "where's the beef?" Which was exactly what I thought when I first read the polemic by Robert M. Parker Jr., who suddenly emerged with his Wine Advocate magazine to declare: "The wonderful excitement of California Cabernet Sauvignons that existed in the '70s, largely as a result of daringly bold, interesting, individualistic, rich and flavorful wines, has been replaced by blandness and dull uniformity...

"A major problem," according to Parker, "is that everyone wants to make a 'food wine,'" which are "nothing more than lean, boring wines with little flavor interest or character."

Parker, of course, was to become far more famous, and influential, than me. But I’m sorry to say, even at that time I thought that what he was saying was basically dumb, for a number of reasons:

1. With the obvious technological advances in the field and wineries, and increased plantings of blending grapes like merlot and cabernet franc (real work with malbec and petit verdot is still to come, to this day), there was no way that I could see California cabernet sauvignons becoming “bland” or “dull.” Where Parker saw weaker wines, I saw increasingly more complex, layered wines.

2. Of course, we could all see what Parker was about in the eighties: cabs that were “awesome,” boasting “gobs of fruit” and other exaggerated qualities. No wonder, I thought, he couldn’t see the evolving complexity: cabernets of the early eighties were getting too subtle for him!

3. Besides, who says the cabs of the seventies were so “great?” True, there were glimpses of greatness in unusually kind vintages, like 1970 and 1974; but during the rest of the decade, when Nature was not so forgiving to cabernet growers and their unruly plantings, most cabernets represented the flawed efforts of an industry still growing into itself: when not green or vegetal, cabs that were raisiny-ripe, fat or awkward; when not dull or washed-out cabs vinified by indifferent winemakers, cabs that were extracted to excess with palate numbing tannin and oak by over-reaching winemakers. To me, this was more typical of cabernets in the seventies: largely uneven quality, with only occasionally (or accidentally) something to write home about.

Despite the myopia of Parker and his growing minions, California’s cabernets continued to improve just fine into the mid-eighties, thank you. Mondavis, BVs and Jordans became more Mondavi-like, BV-ish and Jordanesque (i.e. increasingly elegant, rather than heavy handed, in scale and proportion). Caymus SSs, Beringer Private Reserves and Phelps Insignias became even more emblematic of their respectively big, muscular yet poised styles; while cabs by Heitz, Freemark Abbey, Stag’s Leap and others continued to lurch between dirty/leathery bottlings and moments of either brighter or duller fruit definitions (in other words, dependent upon the shaky skills of their winemaking teams rather than deliberate stylistic choices).

Meanwhile, by the mid-eighties, newcomers like Niebaum-Coppola’s Rubicon, Dominus, Groth, and Dunn began to heat up with wines making most cabernets from the seventies look puny by comparison; while others like Shafer, Opus One, Spottswoode, and Etude explored more elegant parameters, notwithstanding the clamor for high scoring behemoths. Point being: by the mid-eighties it was plain to see that cabernet sauvignon specialists were taking bold individualism to the next level; setting the table, as it were, for the onslaught of small production, over-the-top styles we would see throughout the following decade.

With the increasingly crowded field, of course, came 100 point scores, which helped stoke interest in the steady proliferation of cabernets. But at what price? The big negative: pushed along by retailers (we restaurateurs never sold by numbers), consumers became conditioned to buy according to scores, rather than taking the time to develop their own taste. Who’s to say, for instance, that you might prefer a Honig over a Stag’s the same way you might enjoy a Dan Brown more than a James Joyce, Dumb & Dumber more than Citizen Kane, 50 Cent more than Charles Mingus, an In-N-Out burger more than a Capitol Grill bone-in… you would never know if you governed your life by what other people tell you rates a higher “score.” If anything, numerical scales have stunted the growth of at least a generation of wine enthusiasts.

Thank goodness, almost all of us have been conditioned to appreciate fashion, films, books, food, music, cars, and virtually all other things involving as little as a pinch of aesthetic choice, without having to rely on the judgement of a few tastemakers, communicating by one set methodology. But when it comes to wines, I’m ashamed to say, most of us have been complete pansies, plain and simple; despite the simple fact that even moreso than other aesthetic interests, the appreciation of wine is highly individualistic, dependent as it is on sensory perception of sensations that are elusive at best, and often illusionist (i.e. perceived through power of suggestion).

Then again, the inability of wine lovers to function as free thinking individuals hasn’t been the only casualty of Parkerization (and, I suppose just as much, Spectator-related symptoms). Numerical ratings may have “helped” consumers the way paint-by-numbers helps someone understand art, but the more literal price we have all had to pay has been the turning of limited production cabernet based reds into “cult” wines, appealing to the base needs of spendthrifts willing to shell out $100, $200, or over $300 a bottle for Screaming Eagle, Scarecrow, Dalla Valle, Bryant Family, Harlan, Colgin, Araujo, Leonetti, Quilceda Creek, et al. All beautifully sculpted wines, mind you; but sadly, priced in gross disproportion to their actual quality out of sheer demand generated by the mindless mania for numbers.

But wait, as they say, there’s more. whatever happened to the notion of cabernet sauvignons that are just as suitable for food as for oohing and ahing? The irony, of course, is that the market today is still dominated by the same proportion of ubiquitous brands made in the lean, light style Parker was decrying twenty-five years ago. For every big winner, there are always at least twenty also-rans. But to me, lightness has never necessarily inferred food compatibility – like saying, every Democrat has a warm heart, or that all beautiful people are good in bed. If a cabernet is lean and boring by itself, it is usually lean and boring with dinner.

But when cabernet sauvignon is good, it is not just rich and full of the concentrated, cassis-like berry and smoky oaked characteristics associated with the varietal, it automatically invites fun food matches by sheer nature of its intensity and balance. Why? Because it is always easier to match food with wines that are balanced with a plethora of fruit or flavor interest, rather than a whole lot of nothing.

Case in point: in the late nineties, I once saw Madeleine Kamman (who for years presided over Beringer's School for American Chefs) whip up some breasts of chicken stuffed with green peppers, chicken sausage, and (of all things) pineapple, serving this in a cabernet shallot deglaze with a five year old Beringer Reserve. I had no idea how even tropical fruit, merged cunningly with bell peppers (a flavor element found in super powered cabs), could play up a young, boisterous cabernet's fruitiness while smoothing out its tannins, but it did... or in a recent parlance, wham!

Granted, not everyone can magically transform chicken into a cabernet match like Kamman. For most of us, a safer bet with, say, a Napa Valley cab is a Friday night beef stew or a restaurant prime rib; but come on, where’s the buzz? The better cabernets of today may be massively endowed, but they are also coming with increasingly more flavor and textural complexity to match multi-faceted dishes. Let’s talk about those wines; but before that, some basic thoughts on cooking for cabernet sauvignon:


IDEAL CABERNET SAUVIGNON FOOD MATCHES

• It’s no relevation that cabernet sauvignon is basically a red meat wine (particularly lamb and beef, although venison and bison also fit the bill); although simply plopping protein on a plate is not enough, because there may be no tougher match for a young, tannin loaded cabernet than a lean cut of red meat (like filet mignon) cooked to a well-done dryness (like washing down shoe leather with black, bitter coffee). If you’re cooking for a full bodied cabernet, you need to give its tannin either fat or natural juices to sink its teeth in, or else other bitter compounds such as cracked peppercorns (all colors), mustard seeds or horse radish to help balance out, and smooth over, the drying, bitter taste of tannin.

• The char of wood grilling can help balance both tannin and toasty oak qualities in aggressive cabs (smoked salts, or even subtle use of liquid smoke in mild marinades, may also work in this fashion).

• A good idea is grilling or pan frying with scented herbs that mingle pleasingly as notes of similarity with the natural green herbal qualities (in cabernets, the methoxpyrazine referred to as IBMP, or 2-methoxy-3-isobutylpyrazine) underlying even the ripest bottlings; particularly, thyme, savory, sage, marjoram and rosemary.

• The underlying IBMP of cabernets also identifies well with fresh mint, dill, olives, and bell peppers (all colors), while woody spices like nutmeg, mace, juniper and allspice mix well with cabernet spices tinged by oak aging.

• Richly fruited cabernets also respond to sweet seeded fruits like plum, blackberry or cherry despite the residual sugar (one simple method: after cooking while allowing meats to rest, finishing pans with a splash of cabernet, the juice of dark fruits, some beef or veal stock and pads of butter).


• For sautéing, the aromatic holy trinity of garlic, shallots and butter contrast effortlessly with cabernet flavors.

• Excess sweetness in sauces and dressings (for gamy birds like squab, pigeon, duck or goose) will only accentuate tannins to dry, bitter effect; yet use of just moderately sweet fruit will highlight the berry complexities of more concentrated cabernets.

• The simplest example of combinations of cabernet friendly components in a dish is a cheeseburger loaded with Cheddar (darker, firmer aged cheeses match the deep quality of cabernets better than young, sour, white or blue veined cheeses), roasted mild chiles (touches cabernet’s green notes), and ketchup augmented with Tabasco (another chile note) and rounded out (i.e. sharpness reduced) with mayonnaise and/or Thousand Island; and of course, at least 80% ground beef for suitable fat content.

• Mildly bitter vegetables (especially when grilled) like eggplant, endive, Chinese broccoli, summer squash, and zucchini might round out cabernet sauvignon on a plate and in the palate; while green beans, peas, celery root, spinach, fennel, and other herbal nuanced vegetables can play off a cabernet’s herbaceousness.

• If you’re incorporating mushrooms, use the “wild” varieties; preferably darker, stronger, earthy, meaty mushrooms (like morel, shiitake, porcini or portobello) that are friendlier to full bodied reds like cabernet sauvignon (avoid truffles, except when cooking for the most mature cabernet based reds – at least, fifteen, twenty years old – that have developed organic aromas).

• As with the biggest of white wines, chardonnay, you can only ask cabernet sauvignon to go so far with foods that incorporate sensations that are pointedly sweet (as in Port or Madeira sauces, or Asian style syrups), sour (use of sharp vinegars or goat cheese), hot (not just excess chili seasonings, but also heavy-handed garlic and ginger root), or salty (soy sauce and blue cheese) – cabernet is not your ideal Asian or tropical “fusion” wine!

• Finally, if a cabernet is especially young, heavy, and laden with oak and tannin, unrestrained use of butter or cream (like, say, blending a pint of sour cream into a sauce) might skew the match towards bitterness; the same thing for slow roasted meats (especially if sweetened by carrots and onions) that develop caramelized sugars, making a tannic cabernet taste harder and dryer.

• The older the wine (fifteen or more years for West Coast cabernet sauvignons, twenty or more years for reds like Médoc crus), the more subtle, and umami-clever, your use of cabernet food components need to be.


MATCHING FOOD WITH CONTEMPORARY CABERNET SAUVIGNONS

By no means has the evolution of California cabernet, especially in Napa Valley, been one gloriously straight, ascending line. Trellising and canopy management helped open up vines, reduce herbaceousness, and highlight sweet fruit components in the cabernets of the eighties, but it took more replanting in the nineties (initially in response to the influx of phylloxera) to lick other persistent issues, like over-ripeness (leading to soaring alcohol, flabby textures and pruny flavors) and harsh, uncontrolled tannin – problems, in retrospect, that were not atypical of even the ballyhooed cult cabs of the nineties. Further shoot positioning, shoot and leaf thinning, cover cropping, micro-managed deficit irrigation, more sustainable soil management, rethinking crop loads, and redirecting of entire rows and vine spacing have all been part of the work that has brought today’s cabernets into finer balance, with rounder mouthfeels and more focused varietal definition.

So here’s a rundown on some of these contemporary cabernet sauvignon based reds, along with some food thoughts:

Selene's Mia Klein

Selene, Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

For me, Mia Klein’s Selenes have emerged as paragons of power and saturated fruit sumptuousness, while by no means timid in color, tannin or oak – everything draped in dense, velvet robes. Klein, of course, has left similar marks on several vintages of Dalla Valle (even the cabernet franc dominated Maya, every bit as explosive as pure cabernet sauvignons), Araujo and Viader during her career as a consulting winemaker: a track record of wines that put seamless textural feel above all other qualities, without sacrificing one iota of intensity and generosity. Interestingly enough, on more subdued levels I’ve found that Cathy Corison’s Corison cabernets have shared similar qualities; but perhaps even moreso, you’ll find the same magnificently deep, round, fleshy characteristics in the cabernets of Neyers, crafted for many years by Ehren Jordan (Neyers’ Conn Valley âme, for instance, is an essence of liquefied velvet).

So what do I do with a cabernet like Selene (or for that matter, a Corison’s or Neyers’)? Because it’s one of the rare ultra-cabs that tucks its tannin beneath its textured fruit, it’s one of the few that does well with leaner cuts of beef (especially pillowy tenderloins) sauced in cabernet tinged demi-glace. You could settle for that, or infuse the sauce with a purée of roasted sweet red peppers to beef up the varietal character. But if you really want to take a chance, pan sear the tenderloin with thyme, deglazing with cabernet, demi-glace and, instead of butter, pads of a triple crème like Explorateur or St. André in order to juxtapose green herby notes with a creamy texture, reflecting the sumptuousness of the wine.

Mark Neal (with son, Zachary)

Neal Family Vineyards, Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

The beauty of Beaulieu Private Reserve stretching from the sixties through the nineties (the vintages I’m familiar with) was its commitment to a sort of an elegant composure: concentrations of blackcurrant fruit kept lush and velvety instead of tough and tannic, dense and muscular rather than fat and soft, and rich and compact as opposed to big and blustery. Well, we might have to enjoy just the memories of that now, since a tastings of recent vintages of BVs seem to signal a subtle yet significant movement towards a bigger, more opulently fruited, vigorously tannic, generously oaked style more in tune with contemporaries, perhaps reflective of the inevitabilities of corporate ownership (the winery now run as part of the spirits conglomerate, Diageo).

Or, we can turn to the judiciously crafted coterie of cabernets now being culled from Mark Neal’s meticulously cultivated CCOF certified organic vineyards in Rutherford, Howell Mountain, Mount Veeder and Atlas Peak. While aromatically and structurally representative of their respective AVAs, Neal style cabernets share common traits of seamless, smoothed textures, and noses that emphasize sweet, organic notes of the varietal fruit above other qualities.

From Rutherford, for instance, Neal’s Wykoff Vineyard bottlings are strikingly graceful – moderate in weight, and seductively forward in shriveled blackcurrant, cassis-like perfumes… recalling Andre Tchelistcheff’s analogies of dark Russian princesses in long, black, soft leather gloves. From an east-facing slope going up Howell Mountain, Neal’s Fifteen-Forty flashes a workout devotee’s sinewy bicep, yet sensuously curved, sweet blackberry sensations embedded in glycerol and nuanced smokiness. From a much rockier hillside site, the Neal Second Chance Vineyard is a fully endowed, masculine package of mint, blackberry, bell pepper, herbal tea, steely acid and gripping tannin, yet still chiseled to an exacting, marbly smooth finish.

Who else is fashioning such distinctly delineated cabernets? Not too many, since today’s prevalent style is towards denser “wall of flavors” -- as if everyone wants a Phil Spectorized wine that can shout it from the mountain or from rivers deep. However, Quintessa seems to at least strive towards that velvety, moderately weighted, BV inspired style, albeit in the chocolate-covered-blueberry guise unique to its hilly Rutherford estate. By virtue of its own steep site, Viader has established a strong record of cabernet sauvignon dominated blends, typically made up of violets and chocolaty cherries wrapped in silk and tied in leather stringed tannin. I’ve recently enjoyed an ’05 Gamble Family Home cabernet sauvignon that displayed a fairly even keeled array of cassis, blackberry, green pepper, mint and dusty olive qualities, and an ’05 Honig Mitchell Vineyard that came layered with framboise and mint, proffered on a throne of tannin with taut velvet upholstering.

Otherwise, I’m scratching my head, wondering where the compositional approach has gone; especially since these are the cabernets that are perhaps the most versatile on the table. If you like an herbed (i.e. herbes de Provence) or pepper crusted tuna steak, for instance, a Neal Family cabernet is round and fleshy enough to enhance rather than obliterate it; especially if finished with, say, a deglaze of cabernet, green peppercorns, veal stock and butter. Ditto for wok charred strips of beef with peppers, onions, meaty mushrooms, beef stock, and smidgens of soy and cabernet – it has to be an elegantly rounded wine to match this unfussy yet cab-friendly meal.

Otherwise, the mint and pepper notes of these rich yet soft edged wines are naturals for the most natural cabernet sauvignon match of all: mildly gamy lamb -- like chops rolling in a hot buttery pan with green herbs like rosemary, or else finished with juicy plums or berries.


Levendi Winery, Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

I’m singling out this brand among the tangle of new fangled Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon producers of recent years not because it’s destined for greatness – the winery’s stated goal of producing soft, immediate drinking styles of cabernet will never earn it “monumental” scores – but because its wines represent the high toned, lusciously sweet, almost zinfandelish abundance of fruit qualities a Napa grown cabernet can attain, given the vineyard technology of today. This is as opposed to just ten, twenty or thirty years ago, when a soft, drinking style of cabernet meant something either dull or bland (i.e. the Christian Brothers, Charles Krug and Louis Martini cabs of olde) or pungently bell pepper-green (you may associate this with big production regions like Chile, but it’s been just as common a theme in ubiquitous California brands like Simi, Carmenet, Estancia, and Robert Mondavi).

The wines of Levendi, owned by an Orange County partnership, are the product of Alison Doran, whom longtime California wine lovers will remember as Alison Green, the former André Tchelistcheff protégé (in the seventies at Simi with Mary Ann Graff, and then at Firestone in Santa Barbara). Doran does craft full sized single vineyard bottlings built upon strong firmaments of tannin; but like her blends (particularly Levendi’s Symphonia), even the Levendi Sweetwater Ranch (100% cabernet sauvignon from a 1,000 foot-plus hillside on the eastern side of Oakville) is characterized primarily by an effusive nose and fruit forward mouthfeel suggesting mixtures of wild cherry, blueberry jam, blackberry or cassis, and sweet, leafy chocolate mint.

What’s the big deal? For food purposes, I’ve found that it’s cabernets like these that are big enough to handle leaner, chewy, voluminous meats like venison and bison, yet sweet toned enough to balance the aggressive preparations common to these meats – like mildly sweet marinades, fruit compotes, or hard spices like juniper and clove.

Sure, such wines are performing the same culinary roles that big zinfandels, or syrahs and petite sirahs, easily fill, but are usually destructive when involving cabernet’s usual hard edged tannin. But if you enjoy sweetly marinated red blooded game, but prefer the minty, cassis-like character of cabernet sauvignon – well, here’s your wine.

For well past thirty years, of course, the cabernet sauvignons that epitomized fruit forward intensity have been those of Silver Oak; and while as popular as ever, the winery’s continued devotion to pungent, extended American oak regimes are bound to keep its appeal decidedly within its own niche. A similar “drinking” style of Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon, sweetened by generous doses of French oak, are those of Cakebread Cellars, which dial up upbeat, sweet toned flavors well above fine-grained tannins (even their Howell Mountain grown Dancing Bear Ranch tends to favor spiced plum and dried fig fruitiness over structural strength). And from further south in Paso Robles, Justin Isosceles has garnered a strong following with its tautly balanced yet lush, liquid, fruit bomb style of cabernet sauvignon driven blends.

On the even more serious side, the newly resurrected Ghost Block Estate (owned by Bonded Winery Number 9, in Oakville across Hwy. 29 from Mondavi) offers similar sensations of distinguishably sweet mint amidst whole bushels of berries. The voluminous, densely structured cabernets of Rudd Winery are usually just as precocious in Christmas pie-like varietal fruitiness. The cultish Peju Reserve is no girly-mahn, yet its profile is appealingly fruit forward, going for lavish opulence while maximizing rounded mouthfeels. Nothing wrong with any of that, especially if you have a penchant for wildly flavorful meats that are enhanced by fruit sensations in the wine as much as dish.


Robert Sinskey, Los Carneros Marcien (Napa Valley)

Rob Sinskey affectionately dubbed his top-of-the-line blend (merlot/cabernet sauvignon/cabernet franc) Marcien – French for “from Mars” (or, “you must be crazy”). Sinskey says he calls it Marcien because when the winery first planted Bordeaux grapes in Carneros (a cold region with shallow clay soils rather than the deep gravel and moderate climate associated with Bordeaux), some people said they were nuts.

Needless to say, everyone loves that crazy guy with the dirty coat who finally gets the girl. Investing Carneros real estate to Bordeaux varieties may have been certifiable, but there’s nothing weird about a Bordeaux inspired blend except for the fact that Sinskey’s effort is genuinely deep and delicious – fulfilling the promise of that dubiously named concept, Meritage™. Although I find most California Meritage™ reds as exciting as five hours of bad Italian opera, in the Marcien there is a truly dramatic melding of contrasting varietal characteristics: beginning with a merlot base that is properly plush and plump, knit to the black, wild, plummy, licorice, gnarly tobacco and smoky room qualities associated with the cabernet grapes.

The good news is that Sinskey is not the only one finally making something out of this style of assemblage. Napa Valley’s John Skupny, who has been perfecting the art of cabernet franc during the past decade with his Lang & Reed Premier Étage, has recently come out with a new animal called Right Bank (53% cabernet franc/30% merlot/9% petit verdot/8% cabernet franc) which, for all the world, is one of the few wines outside of Saint-Émilion that recalls a graceful Canon-la-Gaffelière, or a wildly tender La Mondotte – gathering black cherry, blackcurrant and crushed mint into a perfectly round yet densely woven potable.

Meanwhile, well under the radar, on the other side of the Petrified Forest in Alexander Valley, Dave Ready Jr. has been engineering Bordeaux style blends at Murphy-Goode Winery with almost ridiculous ease; including a bright, silken, Pomerol-ish Wild Card Claret (53% merlot, with cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc and petit verdot), plus an even richer All In Claret (58% cabernet sauvignon asserting blackberry and framboise concentration, riding on velvet qualities of merlot and compact, steely underpinnings of petit verdot).

But of course, since the Murphy-Goodes are from Sonoma, they are but naïve domestic blends, amusing in their presumptuousness. As proprietary blends go, anyone would be remiss not to remark on the Napa Valley classics; such as laudable consistency of the fabled Joseph Phelps Insignia – a winemaker’s chef d’oeuvre, if there ever was one. But in accordance with the original conception, a Bordeaux style blend should be more of a meditation on a single estate, rather than a representation of a winery’s wealth of varied vineyard sources. In that respect, I’m compelled to mention the remarkably deep, broad, magnificently sculpted series of wines fashioned by Pamela Starr as Crocker & Starr Stone Place (in recent vintages, predominantly cabernet sauvignon) from the heart of the Crocker Estate in St. Helena. In my mind, Stone Place sits right up there with Dalla Valle Maya (with its notably large proportions of cabernet franc), the rarified Araujo Eisele, Christian Moueix’s Dominus Estate, and the increasingly more ferocious (at least in recent vintages) Rubicon Estate. In any case, the aforementioned five appear to be the most serious of the Napa Valley growths planted to Bordeaux grapes today.

Maria Helm's braised veal shanks

Intricate wines might call for intricate dishes, but we can’t all be Julie and spend six hours laboring over a Julia Child recipe. Rob Sinskey happened to marry an extremely talented chef named Maria Helm (formerly of San Francisco’s Plumpjack Café), who’s smartly tailored this cook-ahead recipe for braised veal shanks with olives and bay leaves to take full advantage of the way a round, viscously textured Bordeaux style blend coalesces with the gelatinous richness achieved in slow cooked meat. In fact, any variation of classic osso buco that dispenses with heavy use of tomato (but instead, focusing on natural reductions infused with cabernet friendly herbs like dill or thyme) would work in the same way.

Julie Johnson

Tres Sabores, Rutherford Perspective Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

By now you can see my theme of highlighting cabernet sauvignon based reds that are less likely to garner that cover on the Wine Spectator; but which, to me, represent the direction we are seeing the grape going towards today. Well, at least where I hope it will go, which is further back into a future…

Speaking of which: no winemaker has been more closely associated with Rutherford than the late André Tchelistcheff, whom I first interviewed in 1983. At that time there were about 4,000 planted acres in Napa Valley (there are nearly four times that today). Said Tchelistcheff, in his usual Russian inflected, convoluted terms, “California’s best red wine is cabernet sauvignon… within the 450 acres that we used for Beaulieu Vineyard, I had only 40 acres that was able to produce Private Reserve… after 43 years of experience, I can locate just specific sections, specific physical and chemical constitutions in the soil, that can create great cabernet.”

Years later, in 1992, I met Tchelistcheff again, seated next to him in a double-blind tasting. Between flights I took the chance to ask about the latest viticultural advances in Napa; particularly new trellising technology and canopy management, resulting in claims that even better and greater quantities of great cabernet sauvignon might be produced. Suddenly the bushy brows over those famous eyes began to dip like dark clouds, as he issued his rebuke: “That is rubbish – you should not believe everything you read! Technology or science alone can never replace natural elements… Mother Nature is still in charge, and it is Mother Nature who expresses her wish that great vineyards should grow only so much wine, and no more... there is more cabernet sauvignon being grown in Napa Valley than ever before, but there will never be more than a few cabernets of true Private Reserve quality.”

History, of course, has shown that Napa Valley can very well produce much more top quality cabernet sauvignon; but perhaps because I was weaned on BV Private Reserves, I still found myself picking those BVs “first” in blind tastings, even as recently as the ’99 vintage. So, for me at least, Tchelistcheff has always been correct.

Which is why Tres Sabores, a tiny (12 acres) Rutherford estate, begs discussion. As a vigneron, Tres Sabores’ Julie Johnson doesn’t have that legendary cabernet éclat associated with Tchelistcheff, Tony Soter, or even Mia Klein. The name Johnson doesn’t have the golden glow of an Abreu or Melka, nor even the making-of-a-cult moniker of a Celia Masyczek. What she does do is generate a cabernet sauvignon that is dry farmed on her home at the western edge of Rutherford – wooded and beset with wildlife – where everything that lives and breathes is an extension of Johnson’s sustainable (and CCOF certified) outlook. The result is a cabernet sauvignon that is as powerful as any, but with a natural, organically defined length, balance and buoyancy: dusty blackberry and dried plum aromas tinged with cedar and rose petal/star anise-like spice; the body, medium-full (not gigantic), dense, chocolaty rich on the palate, with the plush velvet (or what Johnson calls, “scarlet carpet”) rolling-pinning over the muscular tannins, as the wild fruit flavors shoot into a tubular finish.

Diving further in, it’s that sense of restraint that ends up extending the wine over the palate, and the sweet plum and almost Chinese-y spice, that identifies the Perspective as a classic Rutherford style (as opposed to that of, say, Oakville, or any of valley’s hillside AVAs) of cabernet sauvignon. It’s also probably the slightly wild, bucolic edge that specifically makes it tres Tres Sabores, rather than To-Kalon, BV #2, Napanook or Eisele: if this were France, the word terroir would be the first thing out of your mouth.

That’s what I see as a present and future of California cabernet sauvignon: wines issuing forth not so much qualities of the grape, or the halo of a numerically blessed winemaker, but rather that sense of place Californians always say they’re looking for, but usually don’t bother trying to find because they figure you aren’t interested.

But if you’re up to the challenge of appreciating such a wine, an equally organic combination of earthy, fatty and creamy sensations that a wine like Perspective can wrap itself around is in the following recipe, recently shared by Chef John Broening of restaurants duo and Olivea in Denver. Like tearing off your cabernet predispositions, it would require some work, but in the end that revisionist outlook just might set you free:


Gnocchi with Pig’s Feet Ragout and Chanterelles (serves 4)

Advisory: best to do this dish in three stages, starting with the pig’s feet, as they need to soak overnight. The next day, make the gnocchi and set them aside. Then bring it on home with the chanterelle laced ragout.

Pig’s Feet
4 pig’s feet, soaked in water
1 tablespoon canola oil
salt and pepper
1 onion, sliced
1 carrot, sliced
2 cups white wine
4 cups chicken stock

Remove pig’s feet from the water and pat dry. Season with salt and pepper. Brown thoroughly in ½ the canola oil and remove to a baking dish. Preheat oven to 300 F. Sweat the onion and carrot in the remaining canola oil. Add the wine and reduce by half. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Pour the chicken stock mixture over the pig’s feet. Cover with foil and bake about 3 hours, or until the meat starts to fall away from the bone. Remove the pig’s feet from the liquid. Strain and degrease liquid. Pick the meat off the pig’s feet (you should get about ¾ cup of meat). Return the meat to the liquid and refrigerate.

Gnocchi
4 Yukon gold potatoes, cleaned, unpeeled
1 cup (about) kosher salt
3 cups all-purpose flour, plus
4 large eggs
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Heat oven to 350 F. Spread about 1-3/4 cups kosher salt on a small baking sheet. Place the potatoes on top of the salt. Bake about 2 hours, or until the potatoes are soft and cooked through. Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, whisk 2 cups of the flour with 2 teaspoons salt, the pepper and the nutmeg. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Place a wire pasta basket in the water, and add about 4 tablespoons of salt to the boiling water. Cover the pot until ready to use.

Working while the potatoes are still hot, peel them with a paring knife (holding the potato in a kitchen towel makes this a little easier.). Using a food mill with a fine disc or a potato ricer, pass the potato onto a work surface that is at least 2 feet wide by 2 feet deep (wood and marble are the best for this).

Make a well in the potato and break 4 eggs into the well. Place the mixture in a circle surrounding the potato mixture. With a fork, whisk the eggs together. Using a bench scraper, cut the egg mixture into the potato and flour and gentle knead the mixture until it comes together. Using a little additional flour, knead the mixture an additional 20 seconds.

Cut off a few ounces of the gnocchi dough with the bench scraper and with lightly floured hands roll into a rope about 12" long and 1/2" around. Cut off into equal sized pieces about 1/2 square, pinching each piece at the same time. Roll each gnocchi off a floured gnocchi board (or the back of a fork), and using an offset spatula carefully transfer to a floured baking sheet.

Cook the gnocchi in several batches: using the spatula, carefully lower the gnocchi into the boiling water and cover. When the water comes back up to a boil, cook the gnocchi about 2 minutes, until they puff slightly, and immediately shock in ice water. Repeat the process for the remaining gnocchi. Drain the gnocchi well (make sure they are completely cool in the center before you remove them from the ice water). Place the olive oil in a mixing bowl, toss the gnocchi in the oil, then transfer to baking dish (they should be in a single layer), cover, and refrigerate until ready to use.

Ragout
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 pound chanterelle mushrooms (other wild mushrooms okay), cleaned
4 tablespoons butter, divided
2 shallots, minced
1 cup dried sherry
3 ounces grated Parmigiano Reggiano
1 tablespoon chopped parsley

In a large sauté pan, heat half the olive oil to smoking and add the chanterelles. Toss well and add half the butter. Cook until lightly caramelized. Season with salt and pepper and add the shallots. Sweat 30 seconds. Add the sherry and reduce until thick. Add the pig’s broth and meat and reduce by half. Check for seasoning and set aside.

To assemble dish: In another large sauté pan, heat the remaining olive oil. Brown the gnocchi on one side, in batches when necessary. Add the pig’s feet ragout and bring to boil. Whisk in the remaining butter. Garnish with grated Parmigiano and parsley, and serve immediately.

Still crazy good after all these years: Oregon's Cristom Pinot Noirs

When I asked winemaker Steve Doerner how his approach to winemaking has evolved over the past twenty years when I visited him at Cristom Vineyards this past August, he confessed, “I’m almost embarrassed to say that I haven’t changed much at all. I guess you can say I’ve grown comfortable with my ways.”

From most vintners, that statement might set off alarms (lord knows, I’ve been in enough wineries of long standing, chatting with vintners left sadly behind the times). But from Doerner, this was actually music to my ears. You see, we first met in 1989, towards the end of his fourteen year stint as winemaker for Calera Wine Company in San Benito, working with ultra-ripened pinot noir and chardonnay grown by Josh Jensen.

While Calera’s wines may never have been to my taste (I’ve always found them overly alcoholic and ponderous – a byproduct of a warm climate terroir, not any winemaker’s doing), I distinctly remember being astounded by what Doerner was doing there: applying 100% natural yeast and whole cluster fermentation, wines pressed and going “dirty” directly into barrel, zero filtration, and at all times, bare minimal handling – techniques considered not just brazen, but downright foolhardy by the convention of those days, even among the more cutting-edged producers (like Merry Edwards, David Ramey, and Chalone’s late Richard Graff) of the time.

Doerner was doing then what many winemakers today still haven’t caught up with.

Cristom pinot noir at veraison

And by gosh, last month I heard Doerner repeat the same thing I heard him say way back when: “Never try to do anything to pinot noir that you aren’t sure won’t work.” Then, as now, Doerner professed faith in time honored methods of Burgundy –plenty enough empirical evidence even for him (Doerner’s degree at U.C. Davis was in biochemistry). But of even Old and New World “innovations,” like pre-fermentation cold soak and post-fermentation maceration, Doerner has never felt a need. Then, as now, he repeats, “with only wild yeasts to do the work, whole clusters take a little more time to get started, and fermentation within individual berries takes even longer. So in a way, there is extended contact because of the sheer length of fermentation (between 14 and 21 days), with the different yeast strains working at their own pace.”

Now, you may have heard in some quarters that this whole thing about native yeast fermentation is mostly marketing hokum because wineries who do this usually have a history of commercial yeast usage (therefore, most “wild yeast” fermentations are probably the work of cultured yeasts, since all previously used yeast strains tend to remain in the air and on the surfaces of every winery).

So it was with great interest, in 1992, when I read about Doerner taking the job as winemaker for the newly founded Cristom Vineyards in Willamette Valley. You can bet, in November of 1993, that I beat a path to the door of Doerner’s new home, my ears stinging by the onslaught of Oregon winter. So many questions, especially:

• How does a winemaker, basically trained in California, adjust to Oregon grapes, and much cooler Oregon terroirs?

• What would be the effect of Doerner’s previous methodolgy (i.e. natural yeasts, whole cluster, minimal handling and zero filtration) on Oregon grown pinot noir, or would he be forced to make changes?

In 1993, as now, I was pleasantly surprised to find Doerner not only applying the same principles as before, but making wines of greater power and focus than ever; only, with the finesseful attributes of Oregon grown fruit. Regarding native yeast fermentation: no problem. “Stuck” fermentations, green “stemmy” tannins or other related issues? Obviously nada, as Doerner tasted me on barrel after barrel of Cristom’s first wines: clean, young, sturdily structured yet lush, supple pinots. Ergo: the veracity of natural yeasts is not, after all, a myth hoisted upon us by the French. Given the chance, the yeast strains that appear naturally on grape skins out in the field do just fine in the winery, and by vignerons like Doerner; especially when you begin with whole clusters (at Cristom, generally about 50% of the fermentation vats in warm, ripe years like ’06 and ‘03, and closer to 30% in cooler years like the ’07 and ‘05).

But as always, it doesn’t matter what a winery does, or doesn’t do, if the results in the bottle aren’t worth their salt. In Cristom’s case, I think they’re better than ever. In past vintages, tasted five-ten years back, I confess to not being 100% enthusiastic about every one of Cristom’s pinots; finding some bottlings hard, or unforgiving, in tannin and toughness. But in recent years, I’ve come back to being almost always mightily impressed: pinots of strength and sinew, but also languorous, sultry textures and perfumes – like Audrey Hepburns in black silk, pearls, and wispy smoke from the long platinum cigarette holder.

General impressions after tasting through barrels of ’08 (overall: bright, beautifully scented, crisp and finely structured pinots) with Doerner last month, followed by newly released bottlings of ’07...

Cristom (red roof) from above; Jessie, the reverse-Idaho shaped block to left;
Marjorie, straight up, just above tree break

now here, I found, were some things to write home about:

Cristom, Marjorie Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills) – Cristom now identifies six different sites (or “Ladies”) on its 65 acre estate; yet never prone to hyperbole, Doerner says that “terroir exists, but we need more data points.” Even so, the Marjorie is Cristom’s oldest section (planted in 1982), with the highest percentage of Jory type soil (the mineral rich, red toned volcanic soil, also associated with Willamette Valley’s Dundee Hills AVA), given to a decidedly feminine structure and perfume, scented with the redder berry characteristics of the grape. In the ’07, these qualities comes across as thickly textured, with a good bottom grip of tannin, while dancing, zesty acidity brightens the profile, finishing with sweet sensations of red berries and cinnamoned rose petal nuances.

Cristom, Jessie Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills) - From Cristom's steepest, rockiest site with multiple exposures and shallow soil, primarily composed of the brownish volcanic clay in the Nikea series. In this slightly more stressed medium the pinot ripens variably, resulting in a generally darker complexity of red fruit; and what's more, in rich concentrations. The nose in the '07 is jammy sweet, bright, richly oaked, almost wild with blackberry, raspberry and dried cherry skin; the flavors electrified on the palate by the sheer intensity of the fruit, bursting out of the sturdy, fleshy structure thickened by the polished oak.

Cristom, Sommers Reserve Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley) - The Sommers are generally blends of “favorite” lots selected for extended barrel aging from the Eola-Amity Hills estate, with smaller proportions of coastal and Dundee Hills cuvées, resulting in artful distillations of the multi-faceted house style: in the ’07, masculine, meaty, and well muscled, centered around round, fleshy qualities steeped in sweetly floral, predominantly dark fruits, backed by polished oak, draped in velvet textures.

Cristom, Signature Pinot Noir 2005 (Willamette Valley) – In this crème de la crème bottling: the full, strapping masculinity that is invariably found in a Cristom is all here, in spades; beginning with a dense, round, buffed body gripped by sinewy tannin, fleshed out to overflowing with concentrated, velvet lined fruit, perfumed by wild blackberry, raspberry and cherry cola, deepened by smoky oak, peppermint spice, and organic nuances of crushed brown leaves. Only the third vintage (after ’98 and ’04) of a Signature pinot produced by Cristom since its inception in 1992.

The green wars part 2 (organic, Biodynamic® & sustainable tasting notes)

Here’s the lowdown on some of the more notable – if not fantastic – organic, Biodynamic®, and sustainably grown wines tasted during (and just after) my most recent jaunt (August 2009) through the West Coast. For an explication of the green delineations, please refer to previous pieces on The War Between the Greens and A Consumer’s Precise Guide to Going Green:

REDS

Seven Springs Vineyard, Celebration Gamay 2008 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Employing nouveau vinification, but a far cry from the usual: vivid purplish ruby followed by teems of sweet blackberry (like the gushy wild fruit we were picking off the sides of the road during our entire two weeks in Oregon) and raspberry aromas; round, luscious, drippy in a zesty center; the sensations soft, yet dense enough with mild tannin to give a little bit of grip on the palate.

Double cordon "trunks" at Seven Hills Vineyard in Walla Walla Valley

Seven Springs Vineyard, Les Gamine 2008 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Passetoutgrains inspired blend of authentic gamay (60%) and pinot noir; but again, because of the sheer, gorgeous intensity of this vineyard, more like a passetoutgrains of your dreams: vividly defined rouge on noir berry perfumes in complex, nuanced nose; marvelous interplay of zesty edge and silk/velvet textures, the luscious berry fruitiness emanating brightly on the palate. Utterly unique, compelling.

Seven Springs Vineyard, La Source Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Oregon pinot noir lovers have been enthralled by this vineyard for years; and although, since being purchased by Evening Land Vineyards, its grapes are no longer going out to artisanals like Penner-Ash, Cristom and St. Innocent, rest assured that in the hands of French born winemaker Isabelle Meunier and über-consultant Dominique Lafon, Seven Springs pinots will be better than ever. The proof is already in the bottle: beautiful, luscious, fragrant array of rose petal, anisey spice, wild red berries, and blueberry jam in the nose. Velvety smooth entry leading to long, sweet flavors, anchored by sturdy tannin, solidifying the fruit once past the mouth-watering middle.

Maysara, Delara Pinot Noir 2006 (McMinnville; Biodynamic® grapes) - Given its unique locale at the furthest western, coastal edge of the Willamette Valley – strongly influenced by cooling winds pushing through the nearby Van Duzer Corridor – the McMinnville AVA is already associated with pinot noir of exhilarating breadth, more steely structured with acidity and tannin than pinots from the rest of Oregon. Delara is perhaps the most terroir driven of Maysara’s cuvées: its dense, fullsome body elevated by lively acidity, while amplified by its luscious, pungent fruitiness – sweet raspberry and strawberry jam infused with peppermint, pepper, and anise/licorice nuances.

Maysara winemaker, Tahmiene Momtazi

Maysara, Estate Cuvée Pinot Noir 2008 (McMinnville; Biodynamic® grapes) - Slated for fall 2009 release, this cuvée shows the fully ripened, sweet fruit, silk texture, zesty edge, and moderated alcohol typical of this vineyard, as well as the bright qualities of this cool yet trouble-free vintage. Unfettered, wild strawberry in the nose, expressed in vibrant, fruit forward sensations on the palate, gliding clear through firmly defined tannins.

Stoller Vineyards, SV Pinot Noir 2007 (Dundee Hills; LIVE sustainable grapes) - This is one of the deeper toned pinot noirs coming out of this AVA, associated as it is with reddish fruit forward pinot profiles, and an outstanding one at that. Here, the red berry perfume is laced with brown spices and faint, composted earth qualities; on the palate, a fine, long, feminine body underlain by sinewy tannin, giving savory, nuanced flavors, suggesting raspberry tea, smoky spices, and caramelized oak.

Cristom, Jessie Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Geez, can Oregon Pinot get any richer? The nose is jammy sweet, bright, richly oaked, almost wild with blackberry, raspberry and dried cherry skin; the flavors electrified on the palate by sheer intensity of the fruit, bursting out of the sturdy, fleshy structure thickened by the polished oak.

Cristom, Signature Pinot Noir 2005 (Willamette Valley; uncertified sustainable grapes) - Winemaker Steve Doerner has stuck to his guns over the past twenty years – applying 100% natural yeast, whole cluster (50% in riper years, closer to 30% in cooler years like` ‘07) fermentation, zero filtration, and minimalist handling – and has honed it to perfection. The full, strapping masculinity that is invariably produced is all here in a dense, round, buffed body gripped by sinewy tannin; fleshed to overflowing with concentrated, velvet lined fruit, perfumed by wild blackberry, raspberry and cherry cola, darkened by smoky oak, peppermint spice, and organic nuances of crushed brown leaves. Only the third vintage (after '98 and '04) of a Signature pinot produced by Cristom since its inception in 1992.

Bergström, Bergström Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Dundee Hills; Biodynamic® wine) - Quintessential Dundee Hills style, redolent of sweet red berries, flowery and lacy over the rim; but it’s on the palate that this wine really shows its stuff – a plump, soft entry transitioning into a velvety, lush, round, medium-full middle, the red berry sensations fleshy, supple, pliant to the touch.

Bergström, de Lancellotti Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Chehalem Mountains; Biodynamic® wine) - Vivid violet-ruby color, nearly just as deep at the rim; the nose mixing wild blackberry and cherry, less floral than its brethren bottling from the Dundee Hills, but given a dense, gripping, substantive feel on the palate, under an artistically delineated layer of softly sweet fruit.

Beaux Frères, Beaux Frères Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Of this meticulously farmed jewel crowning the Ribbon Ridge AVA, the most significant thing I can report is that it is no longer laden with the tannic heft associated with max-extraction, nor with the aggressively toasted, lumbering oakiness that once gave the brand its swaggering edge. Instead, it’s metamorphosed into a sumptuous, gracefully rounded epitome of the grape. Sure, there still is a perceptively smoky oak nuance embellishing the lush nose of strawberry and wild berries; but on the palate, the feel is crisp, silky and refined rather than thick and chewy. Big Bad Bill is Sweet William now.

Beaux Frères, Upper Terrace Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - One of the discernible differences biodynamic practices have wrought on recent Beaux Frères vintages, according to vigneron Mike Etzel, is redder as opposed to blacker fruit profiles. Physiological ripeness comes at lower sugars (hence, lower alcohol and less raisiny-ripe, root beerish notes; and in response, Etzel has been exerting less punch-down, and more gentle pump-overs, to coax rather than extricate complexity. Juicy strawberry leaps from the glass of this Upper Terrace, the fruit aroma tinged with smoky spice. A round, fleshy body comes across as soft and silky; the red fruit flavors, fresh, lively, elegantly poised against this polished, yet sturdy, veneer.

Brick House's Doug Tunnell

Brick House, Les Dijonnais Pinot Noir 2007 (Ribbon Ridge; Biodynamic® grapes) - Bright transparent ruby signaling the delicacy and lacy silkiness found in the glass; the red berry perfume, singular yet fragrant, penetrating; the fruit qualities on the palate, while fine and sweet, in taut balance with mouth-watering acidity and moderated tannin against a faint backdrop of brown spiced oak, finishing long and lively.

Brick House, Ribbon Ridge Pinot Noir 2007 (Ribbon Ridge; Biodynamic® grapes) - Here the femininity of the house style reaches an extreme, with fragrances of candied red berries tinged with brown spices (suggesting cinnamon and allspice); sleek, slender, light-medium body enlivened by tingling acidity and soft, unobtrusive tannin.

Chehalem, Stoller Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Dundee Hills; LIVE certified grapes) - Lovely rendering of this classic Dundee growth; nose of sweetly concentrated dried plum and red berries, with sachet-like mix of dried rose petal, star anise and Chinese five spice perfumes; long, refined, silken medium body, intricately layered with sweet berries, polished oak, exotic spices and gently tugging tannins.

Chehalem, Reserve Pinot Noir 2006 (Oregon; LIVE certified grapes) - Decidedly masculine style: deep, bright burgundy red followed by intense black cherry aroma; juicy, fleshy fruit-bomb qualities couched in an emphatic, viscous, full body, tightened by muscular tannin.

RR, Pinot Noir 2005 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Chehalem’s upper crust, reserve quality label, culled from older sections of Ridgecrest Vineyard in the Ribbon Ridge AVA (hence, the “RR”). The ’05 is a vinous orgy: roasted bacon/meat mixed with concentrations of cherry and dried plum in the nose; huge (for a pinot), fleshy, dense and velvety on impact, becoming dense, almost ponderous, yet perfectly round and seamless in the mid-palate; the meaty, plummy, cherry bomb fruit compacted, and oozing from the center like a Whitman’s chocolate.

Domaine Serene, Evenstad Reserve Pinot Noir 2006 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Who doesn’t think of this growth as an apotheosis of Dundee Hills? It’s been consistent enough, and finer with each passing vintage. The classic, pretty red berry perfume in the ‘06 is deftly harmonized with rich, toasty oak. The handsome oak, full body and weight adding tannin do not keep the wine from being balanced and buoyant; the fragrant fruit fleshing out the middle, rolling into a sweet finish.

Cooper Mountain's Barbara Gross & Gilles Antoine de Domingo

Cooper Mountain Vineyards, 5 Elements Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; Biodynamic® wine) - Bright, purplish ruby; luscious, fruit focused nose of black cherry and plums, with bare whiffs of vanilla; good size – medium-full on the pinot scale – shaped by dense, round, thick, slightly viscous sensations; again, the flavors focused on deliciously unfettered fruit, as opposed to feminine or finesseful aspects of the mythical varietal profile.

Cooper Mountain Vineyards, Life Pinot Noir 2008 (Willamette Valley; Biodynamic® grapes; TILTH organic wine) - This is Cooper Mountain’s pure, unsulfured cuvée; in a way, experimental (only 100 cases produced), but a 100% success as far as I’m concerned. Winemaker Gilles Antoine de Domingo quips that this is for the “OCD palate,” in reference to the fruit focus incurred from minimal oak aging, resulting in the fresh, lively, mildly spiced, totally clean and bright varietal fruitiness (cranberry/cherry), couched on a bed of soft tannin. As good as it gets for unsulfured pinot.

Domaine Drouhin, Laurène Pinot Noir 2006 (Oregon; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Here and there you hear references to the “Dundee spice,” and whether it exists or is just a figment in an overenthusiastic collective imagination, there is a sweet, brown kitchen spice (cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, etc.) lending interest to the otherwise singular red berry (veering towards black) fragrance of this Dundee Hills estate bottling. The entry is soft, fine, silky; becoming tight with tannin in the middle of a medium-full body, but finishing sweet between the hardening textures.

Pali, Momtazi Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; Biodynamic® grapes) - Pali is housed in the “Wine Ghetto” of Santa Barbara’s Lompoc, but they do too good a job with Maysara’s McMinnville, Oregon grapes not to mention here: a sweet, lush, vibrantly aromatic, smoky spice tinged mix of red and black berries backed up in the mouth with sturdy tannins; the feel is full and dominant, yet the texturing, soft, plump, pliant

King Estate, Signature Collection Pinot Noir 2007 (Oregon; LIVE sustainable & TILTH organic grapes) - Bright, flowery, juicy strawberry/wild cherry nose tinged with light peppermint spice; accessibly soft, forward fruit flavors of the same following up in a compact, medium body with easy going tannin, finishing as softly fruity as it starts.

Ken Wright's McCrone Vineyard planting just past veraison

Ken Wright, Carter Vineyard Pinot Noir 2008 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic grapes) - Since high demand pinot noirs are often allocated or pre-sold, it’s a good idea to get a handle on the upcoming 2008s. According to, Ken Wright, ‘08 was very cool, almost bleak, especially after a “significant rain the first week of October.” But this was followed by “twenty-two gloriously warm days that gave the grapes the opportunity to assemble everything… tremendous structure, and very agreeable, complex, delineated flavors.” The ’08 Carter is a good indicator: displaying ringingly bright, concentrated wild berry fruit tucked into densely layered textures, begging for more time in the bottle than usual for Oregon. Wright advises us to expect 2008 to be “not be as fleshy as ’06, ’02, or ’94,” but punctuated by an energetic acidity that “reminds me of ’88.”

Alma Rosa, La Encantada Pinot Noir 2007 (Sta. Rita Hills; CCOF organic grapes) - More aggressive California style nose – sun dried blackberry, caramelized oak, and brown spices – yet refined, moderately weighted on the palate despite sinewy tannin and the smoke of oak, lending chewy tobacco-like qualities to the pinot fruit.

Porter-Bass Estate, Pinot Noir 2007 (Russian River Valley; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - Luscious fruitiness of all the strawberries in the world, scented and layered between velvet textures, piquant acidity and soft, finesseful tannins.

Porter-Bass, Zinfandel 2005 (Russian River Valley; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - More of a pinot-like perfume, rather than a typical ultra-ripe zinfandel jamminess, in the nose of this uniquely fashioned wine: a pristinely fresh burst of wild raspberry, strawberry and cherry, spiced with cinnamon, clove and green peppercorn; on the palate, the juicy, briar laced fruitiness couched in a fine, medium body punctuated by prickling acidity and just mild tannin.

Amavi, Les Collines Vineyard Syrah 2006 (Walla Walla Valley; IOBC sustainable grapes) - Black purplish color unveils a powerful, plummy, violet scented nose nuanced with gunflint black tea, garrigue-like rosemary, and smoked meat aromas; big and round on the palate, the thick tannins smoothed over by the preponderance of varietal fruit.

Tyrus Evan, Seven Hills Vineyard Syrah 2006 (Walla Walla Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Seven Hills is known to many aficionados of Walla Walla Valley wines, although what’s often overlooked is that the vineyard lies at the south end of the AVA, in Oregon rather than in Washington St. (hence, its Oregon LIVE certification). Ken Wright lends his polished style to his Tyrus Evan label, all but containing the explosively ripe, floral, blue and black berry nuanced Syrah perfume; big, thick, yet round and velvety on the palate.

Saviah Cellars, Syrah 2006 (Walla Walla Valley; LIVE & IOBC sustainable grapes) - Here’s a whippersnapper: out of a purple haze, blackberry liqueur and cloved cherry compote aromas condensed into compact nose; on the palate, a dense, tannin lined, vanilla laced fruitiness with youthful, primary qualities – piquant, chewy, sweet.

Va Piano, Bruno’s Blend V (Columbia Valley; VINEA sustainable grapes) - An artfully crafted, multi-vintage blend of syrah (67%), cabernet sauvignon (19%) and merlot (14%) that hits an exact, crowd pleasing bull’s eye of lush, ripe, sweet toned, mildly spiced fruit, suggesting dried cherry and blueberry, with smoky oak and minty/herbal flourishes. While densely textured on the palate, the feel is round and plump, letting fruit wrap around its modicum of tannin to give friendly, toothsome sensations.

Beckmen, Purisima Mountain Vineyard Syrah 2007 (Santa Ynez Valley; Biodynamic® grapes) - Black purple extraction; intense, wild blackberry concentration with a floral, violet-like perfume and smoky, chocolaty suggestions; on the palate, a gushy, almost sweet fruit-bomb character, notwithstanding a thick, muscular feel; the thick tannins and oak toast playing second fiddle to the plump, youthful fruitiness.

Stolpman Vineyards, Estate Grown Syrah 2007 (Santa Ynez Valley; uncertified organic grapes) - Glass staining purplish ruby releasing a varietal perfume of sweet violet, lavender and blackberry; big, thick, densely layered body compacted by sturdy tannin, filled to the brim with meaty syrah fruit sweetened by a glycerol viscosity, powering through the smoke and tannin.

Doonster, Randall Grahm in San Juan Bautista

Bonny Doon, Le Cigare Volant 2005 (California; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - 50% grenache/24% mourvèdre/22% syrah/3% carignane/1% cinsault. Randall Grahm’s eponymous red Cigare never really went away; it just floats in and out of our consciousness with the same plump, toothsome spirit that it has the past two decades, only now with more organic (i.e. more immediacy of fruit, wrapped in soft leather) feel. The earthen brett notes thinly wrap around sweet cherry/kirsch-like fruit in the nose; on the palate, coming across with a nice, notably acidic zest, a lusciously rounded, fleshy middling weight, with soft, leather glovey tannins seeping through the layers.

Quintessa 2006 (Rutherford/Napa Valley; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - Lush, chocolate coated blueberry and red berry aroma; the fruit draped in velvet and layered over muscular tannin, wrapped in rich, toasty oak with scrubby, organic underpinnings, expanding its medium-full body.

Neal Family, Wykoff Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon 2004 (Rutherford/Napa Valley; CCOF organic grapes) - Sweetly scented nose of shriveled blackcurrant and cassis; elegantly composed medium-full body giving velvety, soft leather qualities to the sweetly concentrated fruit.

Freemark Abbey, Sycamore Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon 2003 (Napa Valley; Biodynamic® grapes) - Classic blackcurrant varietal nose is modified significantly by almost wild, briary/foresty/mushroomy notes polished with smoky/vanillin/toasty oak. Rounded, medium weight for a Cabernet, with an even keeled, balanced quality to the briary, shriveled berry flavors, poised atop moderate tannin. Definitely more for aficionados of an older, earthier, organically defined style of Cabernet Sauvignon, as opposed to the ultra-ripe blockbuster style that is the current rage.

WHITES

Ken Wright, Pinot Blanc 2007 (Willamette Valley; uncertified organic grapes) - This wine is so breathtakingly good, it makes you both laugh and cry to think of how underappreciated this grape can be. Then again, Wright does have a rarified touch; but either way, this bottling is a killer: from the Meredith Mitchell Vineyard in the coastal foothills southwest of McMinnville; exuding sweet, juicy perfumes of pear, nectarine and Santa Rosa plum; on the palate, scintillatingly crisp, fresh acidity lifts the fruit to further, liquid heights, overflowing its silky fine, long, slender, light-medium body.

Chehalem, 3 Vineyard Pinot Gris 2008 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - The finest Oregon pinot gris I’ve experienced in years; spectacularly intense tropical perfume, throwing out honeyed pear/apricot/veering-on-pineapple aromas, with notes of stony minerality. On the palate, totally exhilarating, lively, juicy fruit qualities embedded in slightly viscous, silky textures; yet just light-medium bodied on the palate, finishing with a crisp, mouth-watering exclamation.

Chehalem, Riesling Reserve 2008 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Don’t know what exactly is going on here, but winemaker/proprietor Harry Peterson-Nedry and his team are really hitting home runs these days. The nose here is properly floral, while exuding exotic, almost stunningly unique aromas of kiwi, frangipani and mango nectar. Zesty, glittering fruitiness underlined by a whisper of sweetness (at 4% residual sugar, more of a suggestion prompted by the fruit intensity); the flavors filling the mouth, yet finishing light and refreshing.

Seven Springs Vineyard, La Source Chardonnay (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Oregon grown chardonnay is rarely something to write home about; but when it’s good, it’s spectacular from the perspective of uncommon balance (crisp, harmonizing acidity) and texture (tautly wound). Here, a sweet cream, subtle oak veil is draped over a honeyed pear/apple aroma, almost tropical in perfume; on the palate, silk and cream sensations are merged with lemony crisp textural qualities, unleashing sensations of buttery apples, with a bananas Foster-like caramelized intensity. Finishes long, with an amazing, almost sleight of hand levity (just 12.8% alcohol).

Stolpman's vigneron, Sashi Moorman

Cowhorn Vineyard, Viognier 2008 (Applegate Valley; Biodynamic® wine) - This is a promisingly new Southern Oregon estate, first planted in ’05 with the help of Biodynamic® guru Alan York. Sitting in a cooler section of the Applegate AVA, the wines are probably never destined to be blockbusters except in the definition of its grapes; as evidenced by this viognier, which sings loud and clear with perfumed fragrances, suggesting sweet apple and pear with a mango-like lushness; the wine framed in a crisp, silky, medium-full body, smartly smoothed over by creamy barrel fermented texturing.

Stolpman Vineyards, L’Avion 2007 (Santa Ynez Valley; uncertified organic grapes) - 90% roussanne/10% viognier: golden straw, followed by hugely exotic nose, suggesting waves on tropical shores (mango, ginger, honeysuckle, pineapple); high glycerol gives a fleshy, almost slippery quality to the full body, jam packed by the big, buoyant, aroma driven fruit flavors.

Bonny Doon, Le Cigare Blanc 2007 (Beeswax Vineyard, Arroyo Seco; Biodynamic® wine) - 64.3% roussanne/35.7% grenache blanc. Straw gold, followed by multi-faceted nose of wet stone/mineral, creamy marzipan, slivers of pear and toasted, honeyed nuts and a drop of vanilla. Full, round, fleshy feel on the palate; dense texture giving full body filled nearly to top with juicy pear and stony sensations. Winery suggests “molecular gastronomic dishes found at über-restaurants” like “Alinea, wd-50 or El Bulli”… yeah, right (thanks, guys). More plebian matches like paper wrapped boudin blanc, saffroned bouillabaisse or mussels in tarragon and/or fennel laced broth will probably do just fine.

SWEET WHITES

Pacific Rim, Organic Riesling 2008 (Columbia Valley; WSDA organic grapes) - Not to be confused with the much larger (up to about 40,000 cases), ubiquitous, sushi associated, multi-national sourced “Pacific Rim Riesling” bottling, this is a product of hand crafting from Randall Grahm’s new facility outside of Washington’s Tri-Cities, representing a fulfillment of the Doonster’s Teutonic dreams. Coming out of one of the coolest vintages in the state (resulting in beautifully high acidities), picked at an amazingly low, yet fully ripened, 20° Brix, and vinified to 3.8% residual sugar and 10.5% alcohol, this is also one of the most Germanic medium-sweet rieslings you’ll ever find this side of the Rhine. The nose is white flowery and peachy fresh, with lemon peel nuances; the peach flavors are fleshy and viscous, tasting just slightly sweet, almost dry (amazingly) in its soft, smooth finish.

Ca’ del Solo, Muscat 2008 (Monterey; Biodynamic® wine) - Exceptional, mouth-watering acidity tilts the residual sugar towards just lightly sweet or “off-dry” (although I always thought that expression was contradictory) fruitiness. Nose is flowery fresh and only faintly musky, with peaches and cream aromas infused with whiffs of minerality; lithe, easy, crisply balanced on the palate. From the rare clonal variation, moscato giallo (or “gold” muscat) of Alto-Adige.

The beautiful Columbia from Pacific Rim's Wallula Vineyard

The war between the greens (sustainable vs. organic vs. Biodynamic® viticulture)

Green wines have become more plentiful and better than ever, which is good news for all of us, and the environment.

One of the unseemly aspects of this inexorable movement, on the other hand, is the public sniping between the various sustainable, certified organic, and Biodynamic® camps; and I have to say, what’s even more disappointing are sides taken by individuals in the journalistic community (both print and online). You would think we could all be happy with the progress, no matter what paths growers and winemakers might take.

So let’s talk about this, and maybe by the end of the last paragraph we can give ourselves a group hug. First, in regards to convention: one thing you notice, traveling up and down the West Coast at least, is that very few vineyards of significance are farmed with indiscriminate use of chemicals. As recent a progression as this may be, viticulture is rapidly reaching a point where so-called conventional farming is probably more accurately defined by what is now called “sustainable”; just like 100 years or so ago, before the “miracle” of chemicals, conventional was for all intents and purposes organic (as well as celestial or spiritual), for lack of other alternatives.

As little of what I can say about what constitutes conventional today, I am not 100% sure of what to make of sustainability either; especially when you actually look at the massive workbooks put out by the various sustainable organizations, like Central Coast Vineyard Team (CCVT) and Lodi Rules in California, LIVE (Low Input Viticulture & Enology) in Oregon, and VINEA (The Winegrowers Sustainable Trust) in the overlapping AVA (Washington/Oregon) of Walla Walla Valley. Before I say anything else to raise anyone’s ire, let’s make this clear: I am truly enthusiastic about the mission of all the sustainable groups in respect to their pro-active commitments to the environment, conservation, worker safety, bio-diversity, and biological and economic responsibility. Nevertheless, take a gander at some of the synthetics approved for usage by (to use one example) LIVE: glyphosate; fenhexamid; cyprodinil; pyrimethanil; azoxystrobin; trifloxystrobin; boscalid; triadimefon; tebuconazole; myclobutanil; fenarimol; kresomix-methyl; quinoxfen; streptomyces…

Whet your appetite? The important thing to remember is that the methodologies utilized by sustainable groups are based upon complex point systems: negative points given for, say, resorting to herbicides like Roundup (a glyphosate), and positive points for planting cover crops between rows to prevent erosion, add nitrogen to the soil, and attract beneficial insects. But is this eco-friendly? From the perspective that it gives growers actual roadmaps to follow that minimize the chemical dependency of previous conventions, yes. From the perspective that it establishes a truly self-sustaining biological system… not quite as yet.

Pinot Noir at veraison (Brick House, Willamette Valley)

Sustainability, in any case, is not the same wine in a new bottle; but rather, a significantly modified one, already scoring positive points. Put it this way: if winemakers can now let their kids skip through the vines without having to wear chemical spray suits, that’s a huge plus.

What I find curious, though, are groups of sustainable proponents ridiculing organic proponents; and, certainly more easily because its spiritual side, Biodynamic® groups being ridiculed by organic groups. I’m not talking about the Santa Lucia Highlands winemaker who sat me down, opened up his CCVT workbook and patiently explained why his sustainable guidelines are just as ecologically positive, or more, than certified organic guidelines. I love that.

What I’m talking about are inflammatory pieces like “Voodoo on the Vine” published in San Francisco Weekly in November 2008, doing us the favor of exploding the Biodynamic® myth by drawing our attention to the occultish beliefs of the movement’s founder, Rudolf Steiner: to me, akin to saying that Einstein is not to be believed because he was brought up Jewish, that Ted Kennedy was not a man of the people because he toyed around in yachts, or that Monsanto can’t possibly manufacture an eco-friendly product because their executives sleep around.

While going through my usual vineyard jaunts this past summer, I came across a piece in Oregon Wine Press (August 2009) that pretty much encapsulated much of the conceit of sustainable groups that you normally catch in dribs and drabs when interacting within the industry. Authored by Evan Bellingar, a site manager for Advanced Vineyard Systems who also strongly favors LIVE, the commentary makes no bones about its viticultural sensibility: “A sustainable/conventional approach does more to protect the environment than organic or biodynamic,” and that as good a job done by the “green PR machine” (i.e. organic and Biodynamic® groups), these are no more than “marketing gimmicks at best, and harmful to the environment at worst.”

Hmmm. First of all, as more of an industry observer (albeit, a restaurateur and columnist specializing in wine these past thirty-plus years) than insider, I can say this with just as much certainty: anyone who believes that growers and winemakers who go through the trouble of working within certified organic or Biodynamic® parameters are doing so for marketing reasons is probably living in a fool’s paradise. If anything, up until recently very few quality driven producers employing organic or Biodynamic® methods were even willing to publicize that. You don’t, for instance, buy a DRC, Jean-Louis Chave, Zind Humbrecht, Alois Lageder, Rubicon, Alma Rosa, Araujo, Beaux Frères, Brick House, or even a Sokol Blosser, Quivira or Frog’s Leap because they grow organically or biodynamically. You may appreciate that fact, or think of it as a bonus. But it’s laughable to suggest that producers of that ilk hang their hat on green gimmickry to make their sales or rep.

But what of the charge that green agendas might actually “hurt” the environment? Bellingar’s beef is that “organic certification does not tell a viticulturist what he can do. It does not tell them to maintain wildlife habitat, nor encourage them to reduce pesticide applications or rates. Certified organic tells you what you can’t do: it means no synthetic pesticides were used on the crop.”

King's vineyard manager, Meliton Martinez, high on compost

When asked what to make of that, Sasha Kadey of King Estate (an Oregon Tilth certified organic estate) commented that “to be certified organic does not require us to minimize water usage, introduce raptors, provide protected animal habitat, restore wetlands, or grow our own produce for our restaurant, which we do among many other things.” Mark Neal, whose Neal Family Vineyards manages or owns the largest sum of California Certified Organic Farmers certified acres (over 1,900) in Napa Valley, adds that “pro-activity is built into organic growing,” citing examples of use of predatory mites to control pest spider mites, and seeding plow-down cover crops to add organic matter to soil. “Compared to running a conventional fertilizer through the irrigation system… (or) spraying non-organic acaracides to control mites… I would say that these two organic approaches are pro-active by nature.”

Dr. Robert Gross, whose Cooper Mountain Vineyards in Willamette Valley is Biodynamic® certified, responds that growing organically “is a lot more than chemicals-can’t-be-used… it is environmentally focused; and of course, biodynamics is even more like treating a farm as an ecosystem… as preventive medicine is to medicine, where antibiotics are used as a last resort not the first, I am afraid that the thing in the vogue is chemicals and drugs to increase quantity, rather than quality, of the target organism.”

Defending the use of low-toxic chemicals in sustainable growing, Bellingar goes on to cite specifics: like Roundup (according to Bellingar, “caffeine is 25 times more toxic than the active ingredient in Roundup… if you are worried about protecting your family from dangerous chemicals, please hide the coffee, but leave my Roundup alone.”), and chemicals designed specifically to attack fungi like powdery mildew without harming insects or wildlife (“… organic agriculture isn’t able to use these laser-guided pesticides… they rely on carpet bombing with lime sulfur, copper and micronized sulfur… would you want your doctor to eschew the last 80 years of medical science when treating your disease… aren’t you glad we have safe and effective products?”).

Bergstrom through the mist

While praising LIVE as a positive “gateway,” weaning growers away from chemicals and making them more comfortable with “more aggressive forms of eco-friendly agriculture,” Josh Bergström of the biodynamically farmed Bergström Wines in Willamette Valley glibly adds, “I would love to see Mr. Bellingar drink a nice hot mug of Roundup to prove his point.”

Cooper Mountain’s winemaker, Gilles de Domingo, begs to differ with Bellingar not so much because the low level toxicity of the glyphosate in Roundup can’t be good for anyone, but because “all synthetic herbicides are known to increase the resistance of a plant… the number of resistant species has jumped a total of 4000% between 1978 and 1998.”

Neal concurs, saying that one of the “unintended side effects” of even the latest “laser guided” synthetics lauded by Bellingar is that enhanced resistance only multiplies; which is why “any university extension agent, Pest Control Advisor or plant pathologist will request that growers alternate chemistries between materials with different modes of action such as DMI fungicide (Rally, Elite) and Strobulurin (Fling, Abound, etc.).”

Beaux Freres' Mike Etzel

Despite the cyclical pattern of even careful chemical use, Bellingar rues the fact that “there is no organic herbicide,” and “it is short sighted to risk soils that took tens of thousands of years to form with farm practices that are merely in vogue.” But by eschewing the latest advancements in synthetic weed control, Neal asks, “how are you risking a soil or soil health by not killing plants that are growing in it?” To Neal, “this makes no sense whatsoever.” He suggests tried-and-true solutions, which while carrying a green stigma, might actually do less harm: the hoe and plow, and more time in the vineyard.

Speaking for biodynamics, whatever what one may think of its homeopathic, or even cosmic or spiritual, aspects, de Domingo reminds us that the main difference between Biodynamic® and sustainable or even organic growing is that Biodynamic® “removes the notion of ‘fighting’ a disease… instead, the biodynamic farmer will enhance the good vs. the bad… if the biological system in a biodynamic farm is balanced, plants will be naturally able to resist diseases.”

Like those in the Biodynamic® camp, Alex Sokol Blosser of the Oregon Tilth certified Sokol Blosser Winery says the big plus is that “organic farming has turned us into better farmers. My bag of tricks, as Bellingar pointed out, might be limited, since I cannot use synthetic chemicals. This being the case, we have employed a lot more handwork in the vineyard, and more rigorous canopy management to help make our sprays more effective and help ripen the fruit. I have to be more pro-active, as the days of going out with a spray to eradicate an outbreak of mildew or rot are over... I must prevent mildew and rot.”

But is this enough? In recent years Ken Wright, one of Oregon’s most respected winemakers of all, has been talking about going “beyond organic,” while perfecting, with zero certification, the discipline of managing trellises, crop loads, and reinvigoration of soils through use of natural material that enhance microbial life, leading to the uptake of minerals that actually result in higher quality fruit (hence, wine).

The redoubtable Ken Wright

In fact, all these years Wright has been working in his own parallel universe, mirroring the work of soil scientist, Dr. Arden Andersen, who has been spearheading a movement actually called Beyond Organic – still another certification process, just beginning to make its way into the U.S., Australia, New Zealand and elsewhere. Beyond Organic is based upon a related concept called Biological Agriculture, which mixes in chemistry, physics, biology and microbiology to address plant pests and diseases at their root causes, while focusing on plant and soil systems made healthy without the imbalance inherent in chemical fertilizer, herbicide and pesticide use.

Nevertheless, Bellingar says that following the system detailed by Low Impact Viticulture & Enology helps you become a “better farmer,” and advises that when “you select your next bottle of wine, please choose quality and sustainability, not the latest ‘green’ buzzword.” Bergström, on the other hand, begs our indulgence more honestly, without tooting his cowhorn: “Which is the correct winemaking, and which isn’t? Can you really tell consumers that one is better than the other? In the end, their taste will trump your recommendation…”

Needless to say, levels of greenness are usually far from our determining factors. Terroir, or the combination of quality and character derived from the vineyard source(s), probably figures more into our preferences, at least among the cognoscenti. Then there is the sheer skill, and commitment, of the grower and winemaker; plus not in the least, personal taste, price, food and social contexts, and yes, even branding and prestige.

So to that end, we need to all get together and let the sustainable, organic and Biodynamic® camps know: enough with the silly, senseless nitpicking. Don’t talk to us about your “salmon safe” certificate or manure stuffed horns unless it’s directly related to the quality in the bottle; and without, mind you, one drop of chemical residue that we all know can eventually find its way into our wine, “non-lethal toxicity” be damned. Tell us about the positive things you are doing to help us enjoy finer, more responsibly produced wine, not what you think the other guy should be doing. Dig?

Holidays in Hawai`i (or, my old man was an alien from a biodynamic planet)

Say what you will about Biodynamic® grape growing and winemaking, the methodology makes for entertaining thought. Especially if you're a Pinot Noir lover. One sip of the unique, supple, nostril tingling Pinot Noirs by, say, Marcel Deiss in Alsace, Meinklang in Austria, Porter-Bass in California, or Maysara in Willamette Valley tells you that, loud and deliciously.

At Meinklang, not only do vignerons Werner and Angela Michlitsch grow on a Biodynamic® farm (complete with fields of wheat, orchards, horses, pigs and at least 300 head of Angus), they've also embraced one of the more peculiar, yet intriguing, tools of Biodynamic® vinification: the concrete oeuf, or egg shaped, fermentor, first utilized in France's Burgundy region.

Concrete has long been favored in Europe for its ability to conduct fermentations at naturally self moderating temperatures. Bearing in mind that use of the oeuf is by no means standard Biodynamic® practice, it would stand to reason that this shape might harness some of the very creative forces of nature sought by Biodynamic® proponents. Thus, you would expect Coulée de Serrant's Nicolas Joly to say it is no coincidence that "nature bestows life in the form of an egg." Skeptics, on the other hand, may be surprised to know that the concrete egg has been enthusiastically praised by Château Pétrus's Christian Moueix; and embraced by Dr. Delia Viader (of Napa Valley's Viader Vineyard), who calls the oeuf "the most perfect shape in physics," resulting in the creation of a "vortex," leading to "cleaner, more perfect fruit... less alcoholic, less tannic wine."

So it was with some interest that I was able to inspect an oeuf firsthand this past August at Seven Springs Vineyard in Willamette Valley, where winemaker Isabelle Meunier (below) is experimenting with its use for chardonnay (the results are not in yet):


Placing a hand upon it, I was suddenly struck not by visions of sugar plum wines dancing in my head; but rather, the holidays in Hawai`i, where I spent most of my childhood (minus six years in Tokyo) and adult life, associated with the incredible incredible array of foods my dad turned out from his giant, old fashioned, egg shaped clay hibachi from Japan, called the kamado (reasonably similar ceramic cookers called the Big Green Egg are now manufactured in the U.S.). Does the shape (below) look familiar? As a kid, I thought these egg shaped cookers looked like a giant grenades:


While we didn't have the four seasons in Hawai`i, we certainly celebrated the holidays in pretty much (but not quite) traditional American fashion. Thanksgiving was a huge family affair usually spent at my parents’ (seven kids, plus the exponential number of grandkids, would make it so), and everyone looked forward to the lusciously moist, tender, smoky turkey my dad always slo-o-ow roasted in his giant kamado. As an adult, I enjoyed the perfection of many a fine, smoky California chardonnay with that turkey, chased by glasses of spicy red zinfandel to go with the sage bread stuffing, cranberry and yams. Was it my dad's unconscious culinary talent, the super-conductivity of the kamado clay, or just its wonderous, pre-biodynamic shape?

At Christmas, the kamado was put to even greater use. Invariably there was the ham roasted with pineapple and cloves. But after that, it was anything goes: as Islanders, this meant the perfect excuse to enjoy the foods we really and truly loved to eat most. For starters, steamed white rice and macaroni-mayo salad, served right alongside the buttery mashed potatoes. Blood red, palpitating strips of sashimi, from the finest tuna (i.e. Hawaiian 'ahi) in the world. Filipino style pancit (noodles) and lumpia (golden fried pork spring rolls) with sweet-sour chili specked dips. Huli huli (Hawaiian rock salted, mildly marinated and turned, also on the smoky kamado) style halves of chicken. Oh, yeah don't forget the Jello with fruit cocktail and cottage cheese.

But Caparoso Sr.’s pièce de résistance? By universal acclaim, it was always his kalbi style barbecued beef short ribs. There is not a drop of Korean blood in the Caparoso family, but I swear, my dad's kalbi marinade was always the perfect balance of sweet, salty sensations, with just subtle hints of garlic and ginger, and overt notes of char from the kamado; something I've yet to find matched in even the finest Korean restaurants of L.A. and the Islands. Sometimes we felt like we could eat pounds of it.

I’m not going to pretend that my recipe below comes up to my dad’s standards. He’s still there in the Islands, but unable to share it; and besides, I know for sure that he never measured. It was all by feel. Unlike traditional, or authentic, Korean kalbi jim, which calls for thinly butterflied (or “flanken”) strips of short ribs that sear instantly on a grill, the Hawaiian style calls for thicker cuts (1/4 to 1/2 inch) that can be charcoal or wood grilled, leaving some juicy rareness at the center with caramelized (but not burnt) char on the outside.

5 lbs. beef short ribs
2 cups soy sauce (for a milder, less salty marinade, use Hawai`i’s Aloha brand)
1 cup white sugar
1/4 cup sesame oil
4-6 garlic cloves (pressed or rough chopped)
1 teaspoon ginger (grated or julienned)
3 tbsp. green onions (finely sliced)
1 tbsp. toasted sesame seeds

Place ribs in Pyrex or Tupperware deep enough to marinate. Mix all ingredients in a pan and warm until the sugar melts, then cool. Pour marinade over ribs, reserving 1/2 cup on side, cover container and place in refrigerator for at least 4 hours (or overnight), turning occasionally to make sure all ribs entirely marinated.

Grill the ribs, moderating the flames and turning two or three times to avoid sugar burning; brushing with reserved marinade. Tastes best with steamed white rice, macaroni-mayo salad, and bottles of California zinfandel (current favorites: the biodynamically grown Quivira or certified organic Frog’s Leap brands) or syrah (like the biodynamically grown Beckman or organic Morgan Double L). Serves 6-8.

Organic wine & food matching: Neal Cabernet Sauvignon & braised lamb with mint gremolata

“When I told my dad we were going to take the company organic,” says Mark Neal, “he drove over to Sonoma and came back with a tray of rotten apples and peaches and said, ‘this is how our grapes will look when you grow organic.’”

Not to be dissuaded, Mark initiated the transition of vineyards owned or managed by Jack Neal & Son – established in 1968, and at nearly 1,900 acres, the largest single vineyard management company in Napa Valley – from conventional to organic grape growing in 1984. Jack Neal passed away in 1994, but not before seeing most of their vineyards accredited by California Certified Organic Farmers (i.e. CCOF) by 1991.

Today, with over 1,800 acres of vineyards fully certified, Jack Neal & Son is by far the largest grower of organic wine grapes in Napa Valley. About 1% of these grapes go into wines bottled under the family’s own label, Neal Family Vineyards (the winery established on Howell Mountain in 2001). Otherwise, the Neals work vineyards for no less than 60 growers, supplying grapes to some 72 wineries.

The sheer size of the Neals’ operation begs the questions: can any vineyard in Napa Valley be farmed organically; and if so, why not? AppellationAmerican.com currently puts the total acreage of grapes planted in the Napa Valley AVA at 43,000; just over 7% of which now has some sort of organic or Biodynamic® certification. “I honestly don’t know exactly why more growers in Napa Valley aren’t organic,” says Neal. It can’t be the cost, because when Mark Neal tracked eight of his vineyards transitioning from conventional to organic farming between 2005 and 2008, he found that “in seven of the eight ranches, the costs of organic farming were lower than conventional farming by an average of $6,000… the ‘high cost’ of organic farming is a myth.”

Like others, Mark Neal was motivated early on simply because “I found the idea of synthetic, possibly harmful residue on grapes and vines unsavory… it’s always been a health concern for my family and for our employees. But really, organic is also simply better for the environment, and I don’t think that on the whole there is any argument over the fact that organic practices tend to enhance the inherent and distinctive aspect of vineyards.”

“Like organic foods,” says Neal, “organically grown wines simply taste better, which is why French organic wines, for example, show up consistently among the top ten best wines in any region, being cited in magazines as the most innovative, interesting and personalized products around.”

The Neals produce elegantly scaled Sauvignon Blanc, Zinfandel, and Petite Sirah, but their true forté is Cabernet Sauvignon, which are world class across the board. Among their stable of seven Cabernet Sauvignons are two each carrying Howell Mountain and Napa Valley AVAs, and one each from Rutherford, Mount Veeder, and Atlas Peak. Our Organic Wine Match of the Day, the 2005 Neal Family, Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon (about $45), is a modern day 100% varietal classic: a seamless, velvet textured blend of Howell Mountain, Rutherford, Atlas Peak and Mount Veeder grown fruit. The feel of the wine is thick and viscous, with layerings of sweet black fruit, cedar and peppermint, tinged with smoky, pungent, mocha espresso-like qualities.

There are few things that go as naturally with a smooth Napa Valley style Cabernet Sauvignon like the Neals’ as lamb and mint; since both gamey and green-leafy sensations mingle effortlessly with eucalyptus qualities inherent in the grape. Lamb is expensive, but a great resource for recipes utilizing lower priced cuts of meat is Molly Stevens’ All About Braising. Since you need to buy the book to reap Stevens’ wisdom, for now you might make do with this online recipe for braised lamb shanks with mint gremolata and spring vegetables provided by Bon Appétit. Enjoy!

My best from 2009's Hospice du Rhône

This past spring I attended two massive tasting events: the Hospice du Rhône (May 1-2) in Paso Robles, and World of Pinot Noir (March 6-7) in Shell Beach.

As much for myself as for your possible interest, here are some of the highlights from the Hospice du Rhône – all exceptional wines, worthy of a place in any wine list or cellar – out of about 100 wines tasted, listed in order of my personal favorites:

HOSPICE DU RHÔNE - REDS

2005 Alban Vineyards, Reva Syrah (Alban Estate, Edna Valley)
Holy cow, can Syrah can any more intense, sleek and balanced as this? Black-purplish ruby, followed by nose of smoked bacon and oak, and sweetly scented, concentrated, violet and framboise/berry aromas. Thick, full, unctuous impact; the luscious flavors unfolding in textured layers across the palate.

2007 Paul Lato, Il Padrino Syrah (Bien Nacido Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley)
(Proprietor/winemaker Paul Lato pictured below). Stunningly intense nose of sweet berries, violets, brown (cinnamon), black (peppercorn), and exotic (ginger) spices; the spiced fruit of immense concentration on the palate; big body and tannin smoothed over by silken, sweet sensations.

2007 Baker Lane, Sonoma Coast Estate Vineyard Syrah
Shiny new star producer; the wines made by Steven Canter (who also works full-time for Quivira), and this wine co-fermented with 5% Viognier. Nose is violet/floral scented, with backdrop of smoked meats and crushed berries; juicy, round, thick and full-bodied on the palate; the crushed berry flavors mingling with dark roasted coffee and charred oak underpinnings.

2006 Stolpman Vineyards, Estate Syrah (Santa Ynez Valley)
Ultra-rich, bright and perfumed sweet berry nose tinged by vivid, exotic spices (dried herbs, black and red pepper); super-full, dense, muscular feel, encasing fleshy fruit with finely smoothed textures.

2005 Beckmen Vineyards, Purisima (Santa Ynez Valley)
Beckmen's top-of-the-line Purisima (60% Grenache/40% Syrah) is produced only once every two or three years, when vintage conditions are optimal; and you can see why the ’05 made the cut: it’s massive – a burly yet round, sleek, fleshy concentration of red berries and pomegranate, spiked with smoke and peppercorn. Despite a monumental structure of meat and tannin, the dominant note in the middle and finish is as sweet and fresh as black chocolate covered strawberries… consumed with supple, black leather gloves.

2006 Skylark, Rodgers Creek Vineyard Syrah (Sonoma Coast)
By the sommelier/winemaker team of John Lancaster and Robert Perkins (both still active at Boulevard in San Francisco). Black/purplish ruby; sweetly intense perfumes of crushed berries, dark roasted coffee, cracked pepper and pine needles. Big, thick, plush qualities of the same on the palate; an aggressive, let-it-all-hang-out approach to Syrah.

2007 Paul Lato, Cinematique Syrah (Larner Vineyard, Santa Ynez Valley)
Compared to Lato’s Il Padrino, even more fragrant (violet, lavender and musk spices) and earthy (rosemary/raw meat) in the nose, specked with blackpepper; rounder, more finely finished, silken mouth-feel, with moderate tannin running beneath the sweet/spicy flavors.

2006 Beckmen Vineyards, Purisima Mountain Vineyard Syrah (Santa Ynez Valley)
Ripe, sweet blackberry nose with raw cacao complexity and sprigs of herby mint; thick, dense, full body, buttressed by muscular tannin overlain with the sweet, chocolaty fruit sensations.

2005 Torbreck, Run Rig Shiraz-Viognier (Barossa Valley, South Australia
Thick, balsamic notes of VA only seem to intensify the big, ripe, sweetly concentrated black fruit nose, filled out with dried Provençal herbs; dense, muscular tannins buoy the sweet, concentrated sensations, finishing with a sense of fatted flesh.

2007 Mollydooker, The Boxer Shiraz (McLaren Vale, South Australia)
Dense purple; exuberantly fruit-forward black fruit aromas tinged with smoky oak and mint; thick, layered, round feel, the luscious fruit qualities completely engulfing medium tannins and sweet oak.

2006 Justin Vineyards, Paso Robles Savant
59% Syrah/41% Cabernet Sauvignon. Multi-faceted nose of sweet herbs (rosemary and pine needles), violets, hard spices (clove and star anise), and roasted meats; velvety entry leading to big, round, fleshy body, filled with the sweetly spiced flavors.

HOSPICE DU RHÔNE - WHITES

2007 Domaine François Villard, Deponcins Condrieu (Rhône Valley, France)
As pretty as it gets for white Rhône; nose bursting with apricot and wildflowers; fine, silken entry into medium-full, finesseful body barely containing the drippy, mouth-watering, juicy apricot flavors.

2007 E. Guigal, Condrieu La Doriane (Rhône Valley, France)
Fragrant, super-fresh, juicy peach nose with white pepper and lychee-like spices; full, lush, silky textured feel, the fruit flavors lingering sweetly in round, glycerol textured layers.

2007 Alban Vineyards, Alban Estate Vineyard Viognier (Edna Valley)
Intensely fragrant, flowery nose studded with white pepper spice, honeysuckle, fresh citrus and orange peel; big and fleshy feel, yet the spiced, floral flavors lively enough to dance across the palate.

More great Pinots than you can shake a stick at (World of Pinot Noir 2009)

There are now more great Pinot Noirs being made than you can shake a stick at.

Pinot lovers these days feel like kids in a candy shop at venues like World of Pinot Noir. So as much for myself as for your possible interest, here are some of the highlights from that weekend in Shell Beach – all exceptional wines, worthy of a place in any wine list or cellar – out of some 150 total wines tasted, listed in rough order of my personal favorites (although I loved them all!):

2006 Failla, Vivien Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast)
Brick red color gives little warning of the huge, sweetly intense, pure, red berry perfume in the nose, and the compact yet gentle, silken, feminine feel positively bursting at the seams with lush, viscous berry flavors, lingering endless on the palate.

2006 Pey-Marin, Trois Filles Pinot Noir (Marin County)
Extraordinary rendering of the newly explored, ultra-cold climate, coastal region between the Bay and Sonoma Coast. Color is pale, transluscent ruby, but the nose is huge – fragrant Pinot perfume laced with smoky-spicy sensations. On the palate, long, lively and silky; the bright, luscious fruit vibrant with mouth-watering acidity and restrained tannin and oak.

2007 Lane Tanner, Julia’s Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Maria Valley)
The product of a mature, intuitive winemaker who has mastered her sources. Brilliant crimsom red leading to a sweet, wild berry nose charged up with multiple, pronounced, organic spices (cinnamon, anise and fennel) against a backdrop of smoky oak. Medium-full, meaty quality to the rich, wild berry fruit on the palate, supported by firm, rounded tannin.

2006 Nevis Bluff, Central Otago Pinot Noir (New Zealand)
An intense Pinot fragrance literally jumps from the glass with beautiful sweet berry perfume, harmonized with suggestions of rose petals and charred, spiced meats. Fresh, lively, fluid yet zippy feel on the palate, framing a voluminous fruitiness wrapping around the palate like a velvet glove, underscored by moderate tannin before tapering off into a mouth-watering finish.

2007 Roessler Cellars, Griffin’s Lair Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast)
Sourced from a colder pocket of the Sonoma Coast, centered in the Petaluma Gap, giving a juicy concentration of dried red berries beneath pure, unfettered Pinot perfumes. Velvet glove feel on the palate, accentuated by a glycerol fleshiness and moderate, compacted tannin, giving a dense, solid feel to the concentrated fruit qualities.

2007 Small Vines, MK Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast)
Another bright, new star producer, fashioning fresh, lovely, pristine Pinots, fragrant with lush fruit and peppery, clove-like spices. On the palate, the intense, focused fruitiness is balanced on a pin – moderated body and tannin filled with deep, concentrated, velvet textured sensations, amplified by a glycerol viscosity.

2007 Small Vines, Russian River Valley Pinot Noir
The “big brother” bottling of Small Vines’ MK bottling is deep, luscious, concentrated red and black berry; the perfumes enhanced by multiple spice qualities (peppermint, cardamom, cinnamon, ginger). Thick, juicy fruit qualities on the palate, undiminished by strong, youthful tannin and toasty oak, finishing with a sinewy, tobacco-like sweetness.

2006 Hitching Post, Perfect Set Pinot Noir (Sta. Rita Hills)
100% from Kathy Joseph’s Fiddlestix Vineyard, Gorgeous, lacy, pure, almost ethereal Pinot and ginger spice perfumes; sweet, velvety entry, beefed up by young, blustery tannin and lively acidic snap, pumping up the juicy fruit sensations nearly wall-to-wall on the palate, and into a long, electrical finish.

2006, Alma Rosa, La Encantada Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sta. Rita Hills)
By Richard Sanford, the original owner of the Sanford & Benedict Vineyard, the first historical planting of Pinot Noir in the Sta. Rita Hills. La Encantada was planted in 2000, and was the first CCOF certified organic vineyard in Santa Barbara County. Gorgeous, multi-faceted black and blueberry tart-like perfumes with dark forest, underbrushy, humus-like undertones; a dense, broad yet svelte mouth-feel held together by sturdy tannin, fleshed out by luscious, almost sweet, floral, crushed berry flavors.

2006 Badge, Sta. Rita Hills Pinot Noir
By Bruno D’Alfonso (formerly of Sanford); brilliant Pinot red; deep, luscious, multi-faceted nose boasting cherry cola fruit and super-spices (smoke and Pinot pepper and mint); and on the palate, plump with glycerol textured fruit, yet broad, meaty, gripping on the palate, flashing sexy, silken fine layers over dense tannin.

2006 d’Alfonso-Curran, Sanford & Benedict Pinot Noir (Sta. Rita Hills)
The new collaborative label by spouses Bruno D’Alfonso and Kris Curran (pictured above -- formerly of Sea Smoke, and now full-time with Foley Family Wines). Intensely fragrant varietal perfume layered with lightly toasted oak and suggestions of dried herb stalks; finesseful and toasty on the palate, the fruit riding on muscled tannin into a long, sweet finish.

2006 Failla, Keefer Ranch Pinot Noir (Russian River Valley)
Flowery fresh and airy, wild berry/rose petal perfume; rich, lively, plush with velvet layers of red berry flavors, finishing long, sweet, gently on the palate.

2007 Costa de Oro, Dijon Selection Pinot Noir (Santa Maria Valley)
Tight yet floral, mildly spiced rosebud of a nose, brimming with juicy red fruit; rounded, fleshy quality on the palate, the plump flavors silky and juicy on the palate.

2005 MacPhail, Sangiacomo Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast)
Another new name fashioning a stable of big-time Pinots with apparent ease. Fleshy black fruit and big, beefy qualities hit both high and low, vibrant notes in the nose. On the palate, a buoyant balance of intense, silky, fragrant fruit layered with broader strokes of a slightly feral meatiness and muscular tannin; yet all wrapped up with the grape’s natural inclination towards levity and finesse.

2007 MacPhail Family, Goodin Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sonoma Coast)
The nose in this cuvée is deep and intriguing; mixing dark berries and cherry with smoky spices and earthy, truffle-lish complexities. Dense and sinewy medium sized body, filled to the top with velvet textured fruit and strong fisted tannin.

2005 Fiddlehead Cellars, Lollapalooza Pinot Noir (Fiddlestix, Sta. Rita Hills)
The crème de la crème of Kathy Joseph’s estate (Fiddlestix, where winemaker pictured above) vineyard. Brick ruby red; the nose is both floral and beef-brothy, touched by sweet, toasty oak; sinewy, medium body with a sense of feminine delicacy, yet brimming with sweet cherry/cola-like fruit and subtle sensations of roasted meat.

2006 Fiddlehead Cellars, Seven-Twenty-Eight Pinot Noir (Fiddlestix, Sta. Rita Hills)
From select blocks of the Fiddlestix Vineyard; tight, yet pure, fragrant, black cherry-like Pinot perfume, merged with peppery and smoky oak spices; fine, medium-full body, perfectly rounded tannin and glycerol adding to a plush, sculpted feel.

2006 Soter Vineyards, Mineral Springs Pinot Noir (Yamhill-Carlton District, Oregon)
The second vintage from the master winemaker’s (Tony Soter) home ranch. Violet tinged ruby giving fair warning of fairly concentrated, tight, compact wild cherry fruitiness in the nose, harmonized with vanillin oak. Even better on the palate; plump and juicy in the middle, packed with well muscled tannin, and strong enough to fashion a long, sweet and intricate finish.

2006 Etude Wines, Temblor Carneros Estate Pinot Noir
Rich, bright, sweet, multi-faceted nose of wild cherry and red berries tinged with light toast and cinnamon sticks; intense, densely packed, fleshy fruit sensations on the palate, solidified by medium tannin and zippy acidity.

2006 Campion, Sarmento Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Lucia Highlands)
A densely textured, yet pronounced, curvaceous style of Pinot; the fruit, lush and fragrant in the nose, round and easy in the entry, thickened by firm tannin in the middle, yet fine and delicate in the finish.

2007 Nick Goldschmidt, Boulder Bank Pinot Noir (Marlborough, New Zealand)
Juicy, lush, fragrant nose of red and blue berries mixed with blackcurrant cake; on the palate, the culinary feel continues with soft, round, plump, supple fruit sensations, the spices turning towards ginger and cardamom.

2006 J. Wilkes, Hillside Pinot Noir (Bien Nacido Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley)
Very floral, pretty red fruit (cherry/raspberry) with exotic ginger/peppery spice and vanillin/minty oak; big, zesty, exuberant fruit in the entry, becoming very soft, fine and silky, finishing with a lovely, feminine, balanced feel.

2006 Sinor-La Vallee, Talley-Rincon Vineyard Pinot Noir (Arroyo Grande Valley)
Deep, smoky, aggressive style, punctuated by luscious, bright, intense red berry fruitiness, folded into a medium body fleshed out by snappy acidity and moderate yet sinewy tannin.

2007 Muddy Water, Slowhand Pinot Noir (Waipara, New Zealand)
Very pretty, pure, sweet and airy Pinot perfume harmonized with low-key oak and slightly feral, wild, earthy notes, with a light layering of evergreenish underbrush. On the palate, round and luscious; the fruit manifested in red and blue berry sensations, zipped by lively, snappy acidity. Very varietal, and very “New Zealand” at the same time.

2007 Dierberg Vineyard, Steven’s Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Maria Valley)
Unusual (for Pinot), purplish ruby cast, signaling a big, thick, dense house style. Nose of sweet, concentrated fruit and oak, pepper, cinnamon and even celery spices; aggressive fruit and tannin, still nicely tucked into round, fleshy, smooth textures

2006 Dierberg Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley Pinot Noir
Glistening, dark ruby red leading to slightly toasty, kitchen spice inundated nose enveloping sweet, crushed berry aromas; the rich, spicy, smoky qualities continuing on the palate, hitting it full-on with a rich, luscious, brimming, hedonistic feel.

2006 Mount Eden Vineyards, Santa Cruz Mountains Pinot Noir
Brick ruby, understating a pure, pungent, smoky, generously spiced Pinot fruitiness that follows; medium-full, plump and pliant on the palate; the fruit, fleshy, silken, and balanced, before finishing soft and easy.

2006 Le Fenêtre, Le Bon Climat Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Maria Valley)
This Pinot does not take a gentle approach, but rather a big, broad, aggressive tannin laden style. Yet the solidity lends a fine contrast to a ripe, lush, bright, fragrant fruitiness, with smoky spices extracted from both fruit and oak.

2006 Chehalem, Oregon Reserve Pinot Noir (Willamette Valley)
This cuvée formerly called Rion Reserve; bright, clear ruby and fine, lush mix of red and black berry aromas; fleshy feel supported by firm, well muscled tannin, sporting fresh, brambly wild berry flavors, long and velvety on the palate.

2007 MacPhail Family, Toulouse Vineyard Pinot Noir (Anderson Valley)
(Winemaker/proprietor James MacPhail pictured above). Pale burgundy red followed by lush, ripe varietal fruit spiced with black pepper, clove and sweet oak. Big (for Pinot), brawny, chewy, rather rough hewn on the palate; these untamed qualities (pretty much the story of Anderson Valley style Pinots) more than compensated by the aggressively spiced, ripe, sweet varietal fruitiness.

2007 Foley Family, Barrel Select Pinot Noir (Sta. Rita Hills)
Shy but sweet strawberry fragrance with smoky oak and tea-like nuances; velvet textured, mouth-watering red berry flavors , finishing long, sweet, gentle.

2007 Cargasacchi, Sta Rita Hills Pinot Noir
Deep ruby color, and even deeper, plummy, smoky, spicy nose, exuding cherry cola-like Sta. Rita Hills style fruitiness; fat, round qualities on the palate, the fruit lush and juicy, supported by firm yet unobtrusive tannin.

2007 Belle Glos, Las Alturas Vineyard Pinot Noir (Santa Lucia Highlands)
Intense, perfumed nose of red berry and cherry, touched up with light toast; long, silky, fine, medium-full sensations with a light acidic smack.

2007 Pali Wine Co., Keefer Ranch Vineyard Pinot Noir (Russian River Valley)
Smoky, aggressive style – woodsy, roasted, meaty sensations complimenting plummy red berryish Pinot fruit. Broad, full, rounded feel; sturdy tannin and aggressive oak wrapped around a plump, generous fruitiness.

2006 Flying Goat, Rio Vista Vineyard Pinot Noir (Sta. Rita Hills)
Sweet, ripe, spiced (like cinnamon dusting) strawberry/raspberry nose; the fresh, flowery, red berry qualities following up in a fine, silky/lacy feel perked up by zippy acidity, sticking to the palate in a long, lively finish.

2006 Jim Ball, Anderson Valley Pinot Noir
Seemingly typical of the Anderson Valley Pinots, an emphatic, aggressive nose, exuding black and red berries mingling with smoky oak spices; energetic acidity pushing up luscious fruit wrapped in toasty/smoky oak, underpinned by firming tannin.

2007 Chamisal, Edna Valley Pinot Noir
From the winery formerly known as Domaine Alfred (re photo of winemaker Fintan du Fresne below) -- bright, focused perfume of red berry/cherry cola, tight grained vanillin oak, and flowery, almost Syrah-like violet notes. Soft, velvety entry into medium weight body; the plush qualities spiced with chocolate and roasted coffee beans, overriding young, narrowing tannins.

Organic wine & food matching: Beckman Purisima & summer grills

I could see for miles and miles at the top of the Purisima Mountain Vineyard, owned and farmed by Steve Beckman of Santa Barbara’s Beckman Vineyards. But the “truth,” according to Beckman, is not “out there,” but in the soil, the grapes, and in the resulting wine; no matter what you may think of the Biodynamic® practices they have been practicing full-on since 2006.

The Beckmans (Steve the vigneron, with his parents Tom and Judy) purchased their 365 acre mountain estate in the mid-section (unofficially called Ballard Canyon) of Santa Ynez Valley in 1996, just a couple of years after establishing their winery on a 20 acre vineyard parcel just over the hill, a couple of hairpin turns away. Vintages from the late ‘90s, produced from grapes from neighboring properties (like the prestigious Stolpman Vineyards) convinced the Beckmans that Syrah and Grenache – yielding ultra-deep and concentrated wines when grown in the shallow, sandy clay layered over mounds of calcareous rock, surfacing towards the tops of these hillsides -- were the way to go with their own plantings.

Steve was first exposed to biodynamics by a college friend and backyard gardener in 1995, but it would be another four years, after meeting a Frenchman named Philippe Armenier (of Domaine de Marcoux in Châteauneuf-du-Pape), before his own skepticism turned the corner to healthy curiosity. The initial decision, according to Beckman, “was the hardest.” But with Armenier’s advisory, 17 trial acres of 100% biodynamically farmed Syrah, planted on Purisima in 2001, turned up “immediate results.” Beckman saw “plants that wanted to grow straight up to the sun instead of in all directions,” and “when we brought in the fruit, we saw increased nutrients in our musts and healthier fermentations.”

But above all, when comparing their Biodynamic® vs. conventionally grown wines, Beckman discovered “wines that I loved… wines that I thought expressed what the terroir of Purisima was about: rich, ripe wines that are balanced and elegant.” Thereafter, the decision was easy; and the Beckmans converted all 125 of their planted acres on Purisima to Biodynamic®.

As we drove by his home in the middle of vineyard, Beckman stopped to give his four year old son a hug, and related this story: “No question, our soils our richer, our roots are growing vertically, and earthworms are a lot happier with what we’re doing. But what really reinforced our conviction that we’re doing the right thing is when my son recently saw some workers in a nearby vineyard wearing chemical suits, and he turned to me and asked, ‘Dad, why are they spraying poison on their grapes?’ So you see why, to me, it’s not biodynamics that are out of whack. It’s the industrial, chemical-based concepts that make no sense at all.”

The Rhône inspired wines of Beckman Vineyards have always been top-notch; and with the recent return of Hawai`i born winemaker Mikael Sigouin (who also produces his own outstanding Rhône style blends under the Kaena label) after a brief hiatus with another winery, this brand is now truly rocking and rolling; as evidenced by a tasting of their top-of-the-line Grenache/Syrah (60%/40%) blend, the 2005 Beckman Santa Ynez Valley Purisima (about $75). Purisima is produced only once every two or three years, when vintage conditions are optimal; and I can see why the ’05 made the cut: it’s massive – a burly yet round, sleek, fleshy concentration of red berries and pomegranate, spiked with smoke and peppercorn; and despite a monumental structure of meat and tannin, the sweet sensation in the middle and finish is very much of dark chocolate covered strawberries, consumed with long, supple, black leather gloves. Capisci?

Doesn’t take a culinary genius to know what food matches this kind of sick bruiser: grilled meats, especially strewn with cracked pepper and sweet/spicy seasonings or rubs. But don’t limit yourself. I like what William Lengeman III says in this intro to Grilling 101: summer grilling often conjures images of testosterone-addled men wrestling slabs of meat, but let’s consider another eminently grillable foodstuff… the vegetable. That’s pronounced VEJ-ti-bal, boys (“veggies” always sounded prissy to me); and when you apply marinades and foils, even pedestrian mushrooms and root vegetables can be hot.

… or in the immortal words of The Who: this is no social crisis, this is you having fun.

Organic wine & food matching: Tres Sabores Perspective and gnocchi with pig's feet & chanterelles

I spent more time with Julie Johnson at her CCOF certified Tres Sabores than any other single winemaker during a recent three week swing through the West Coast this past spring. Why? Admittedly, because I can drink her wines all day or night, everyday. Also, because everything she does, as a grower and winemaker, just seems to make sense. My vinous sensibility is simpático with Tres Sabores.

Johnson farms a 32 year-old vineyard in the heart of the Napa Valley’s famed Rutherford AVA; originally planted to Zinfandel (making killer reds), but to which she added two acres of Cabernet Sauvignon (yielding no more than a couple hundred cases a year) after first acquiring the property in 1987. As a former partner at Frog’s Leap, her instincts were, and still are, organic, but for all the right reasons: this vineyard is also her home, her refuge, her sustenance, and an extension of herself – everything in its place, but in the opposite of a contrived, unnatural fashion.

“The essence of sustainability,” she says, “is that no part of what you do is wholly separate from the other.” So, through Johnson’s windows, you see old, gnarly trunked vines, but also stands of walnut and 150 year old olive trees, zinnias and cosmos among the buckwheat and wild grasses between the rows, tangled blackberry patches around the edges, hummingbirds, bees, sheep, and furtive jackrabbits and noisy, wild guinea hens nesting or scrambling hither and yon.

The active wildlife, according to Johnson, “makes us laugh,” but they also play their part. “Organic farming is not just about not using chemicals… spiders and ladybugs keep pests at bay, cover crops keep weeds in check, but without the wild olives on the hill and the guinea hens and rabbits making their homes, the owls and hawks would have little incentive to stick around and help out when the swarms of starlings come around in the fall.”

Then wherefore the amusing flora and fauna? From our perspective, it’s what comes out in the wine that counts. Indeed, the newly released 2006 Tres Sabores Rutherford Perspective (about $65) is not only an unmitigated masterpiece of a 100% Cabernet Sauvignon, it is tres Tres Sabores: powerful yet with a natural, organic sense of balance and buoyancy. The fruit expression: black purplish; dusty blackberry and dried plum aromas tinged with cedar and red rose/star anise-like spice; medium-full (not gigantic), dense, chocolaty rich on the palate, with a plush velvet feel rounding out wild, ferocious tannins.

Diving further in, it’s the sense of restraint, significant layering of velvet over tannic muscle, and the sweet plum and almost Chinese-y spice that identify the Perspective as a classic Rutherford style (as opposed to that of, say, Napa Valley’s Oakville or mountain AVAs) Cabernet Sauvignon; and it’s probably the slightly wild, bucolic edge that specifically makes it “Tres Sabores.”

Ah, perfection. Wait a sec, why not make a meal of it? If you’re up to a challenge, an equally perfect combination of earthy, fatty and creamy sensations that a wine like Perspective can sink its teeth into, here’s a recipe recently shared by Chef John Broening of restaurants duo and Olivea in Denver for

Gnocchi with Pig’s Feet Ragout and Chanterelles (serves 4)
Advisory: best to do this dish in three stages, starting with the pig’s feet, as they need to soak overnight. The next day, make the gnocchi and set them aside. Then bring it on home with the chanterelle laced ragout.

Pig’s Feet
4 pig’s feet, soaked in water
1 tablespoon canola oil
salt and pepper
1 onion, sliced
1 carrot, sliced
2 cups white wine
4 cups chicken stock

Remove pig’s feet from the water and pat dry. Season with salt and pepper. Brown thoroughly in ½ the canola oil and remove to a baking dish. Preheat oven to 300 F. Sweat the onion and carrot in the remaining canola oil. Add the wine and reduce by half. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Pour the chicken stock mixture over the pig’s feet. Cover with foil and bake about 3 hours, or until the meat starts to fall away from the bone. Remove the pig’s feet from the liquid. Strain and degrease liquid. Pick the meat off the pig’s feet (you should get about ¾ cup of meat). Return the meat to the liquid and refrigerate.

Gnocchi
4 Yukon gold potatoes, cleaned, unpeeled
1 cup (about) kosher salt
3 cups all-purpose flour, plus
4 large eggs
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Heat oven to 350 F. Spread about 1-3/4 cups kosher salt on a small baking sheet. Place the potatoes on top of the salt. Bake about 2 hours, or until the potatoes are soft and cooked through. Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, whisk 2 cups of the flour with 2 teaspoons salt, the pepper and the nutmeg. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Place a wire pasta basket in the water, and add about 4 tablespoons of salt to the boiling water. Cover the pot until ready to use.

Working while the potatoes are still hot, peel them with a paring knife (holding the potato in a kitchen towel makes this a little easier.). Using a food mill with a fine disc or a potato ricer, pass the potato onto a work surface that is at least 2 feet wide by 2 feet deep (wood and marble are the best for this).

Make a well in the potato and break 4 eggs into the well. Place the mixture in a circle surrounding the potato mixture. With a fork, whisk the eggs together. Using a bench scraper, cut the egg mixture into the potato and flour and gentle knead the mixture until it comes together. Using a little additional flour, knead the mixture an additional 20 seconds.

Cut off a few ounces of the gnocchi dough with the bench scraper and with lightly floured hands roll into a rope about 12" long and 1/2" around. Cut off into equal sized pieces about 1/2 square, pinching each piece at the same time. Roll each gnocchi off a floured gnocchi board (or the back of a fork), and using an offset spatula carefully transfer to a floured baking sheet.

Cook the gnocchi in several batches: using the spatula, carefully lower the gnocchi into the boiling water and cover. When the water comes back up to a boil, cook the gnocchi about 2 minutes, until they puff slightly, and immediately shock in ice water. Repeat the process for the remaining gnocchi. Drain the gnocchi well (make sure they are completely cool in the center before you remove them from the ice water). Place the olive oil in a mixing bowl, toss the gnocchi in the oil, then transfer to baking dish (they should be in a single layer), cover, and refrigerate until ready to use.

Ragout
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 pound chanterelle mushrooms (other wild mushrooms okay), cleaned
4 tablespoons butter, divided
2 shallots, minced
1 cup dried sherry
3 ounces grated Parmigiano Reggiano
1 tablespoon chopped parsley

In a large sauté pan, heat half the olive oil to smoking and add the chanterelles. Toss well and add half the butter. Cook until lightly caramelized. Season with salt and pepper and add the shallots. Sweat 30 seconds. Add the sherry and reduce until thick. Add the pig’s broth and meat and reduce by half. Check for seasoning and set aside.

To assemble dish: In another large sauté pan, heat the remaining olive oil. Brown the gnocchi on one side, in batches when necessary. Add the pig’s feet ragout and bring to boil. Whisk in the remaining butter. Garnish with grated Parmigiano and parsley, and serve immediately.

Organic wine & food matching:: Robert Sinskey Marcien & Maria Helm's braised veal shanks

When Biodynamic® guru Alan York began consulting with winegrower/proprietor Rob Sinskey of Robert Sinskey Vineyards (a.k.a. RSV), the first thing he advised was to “get over the voodoo doo-doo” and find the “practical ways to get it done.” “I was never that heavy into Rudolf Steiner’s spiritual philosophy anyway,” confesses Sinskey, “but what makes sense are the steps that give your vineyard a distinctive personality… if it means planting according to the rhythms of the earth and employing sheep herders to mow the grass, so be it.”

Although Biodynamic® certification didn’t come to RSV until 2007, the original “tipping point” for Sinskey goes back to1990; when he observed one of his Chardonnay blocks in Carneros shutting down and phylloxera strangling the vines. “At that time we were spraying and constantly sterilizing the soil to the point which it had basically become a ‘dead zone,’ showing little sign of life, almost no birds or earthworms to be found. It was our winemaker, Jeff Virnig, who originally brought up the subject one day by asking, ‘wouldn’t it be cool if we were organic?’”

So throughout the ‘90s Sinskey’s goal was to jump-start microbial activity in the soils of his property – 5 acres around the RSV winery in Napa Valley’s Stag’s Leap District, and another 200 or so in the Los Carneros AVA – by ceasing the use of chemical fertilizers, pesticides and the like; and by 2001, when RSV received its CCOF certification, the earthworms and birds were back in multitudes.

Sinskey’s vineyard manager, Debby Zygielbaum, is both meticulous and obsessive in her aversion to, in her words, “better living through chemicals.” “It’s not like we have it easy,” she tells us, while driving us through her “shaggy” vineyards – bespoke with varieties of grass, poppies, ponds, fruit and olive trees, and even a pristine pasture for a bourgeoning flock of sheep – up and down the Carneros hillsides.

“One of our biggest barriers,” according to Zygielbaum, “is powdery mildew, for which 508 (the anti-fungal Biodynamic® tea spray prepared from horsetail) is not enough” – and so she finds it necessary to supplement with some sulphur. “Gophers, mealy bugs, nematodes, you name it, we got it, and we take organic measures to keep things in balance. But at the end of the day, the pay-off for what we do in the vineyard is in the wine: in this day and age of Robert Parker and wines that taste all the same, there’s something beautiful about something that tastes of a place, and I think we’ve got that.”

Which brings us to RSV’s top-of-the-line blend of Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, which Sinskey affectionately calls Marcien – French for “from Mars” (or, “you must be crazy”). Says Sinskey, “we call it Marcien because when we first started planting Bordeaux grapes in Carneros (a cold region with shallow clay soils rather than the deep gravel and moderate climate associated with Bordeaux), some people thought we were nuts. But you taste the wine and tell us what you think.”

What do I think? If you’re a wine lover who prizes the elegance and deep, compact intensity of red Bordeaux, the 2005 Robert Sinskey Vineyards Los Carneros Marcien (about $50) will blow you away! No, it’s not “Bordeaux,” it’s Carneros grown Merlot – luscious, velvety, seamlessly textured – knit to the black, wild, plummy, licorice, gnarly tobacco, and smoky room qualities associated with the Cabernet grapes. Since Sinskey also happens to be married to Maria Helm – a great chef, formerly of the San Francisco’s recently shuttered Plumpjack Café –the Marcien’s ideal food context is also key to maximum consumption. The Sinskeys recommend this recipe for braised veal shanks with olives and bay leaves… double-wow!

Organic wine & food matching: Quivira "Wine Creek" Zinfandel & cheeses-to-die-for

Eating and Drinking Green Makes Sense

So now we that we have choices between organic and non-organic foods, eco-friendly and non-eco stiletto heels, hybrid and non-hybrid cars, etc., why aren’t most of us making the choice to drink green as well?

I suspect that, on an intellectual level, many of us figure that since wine is an alcoholic drink made from grapes, the organic-ness of a bottle is neither here nor there. The truth is far from that.

If you’ve visited vineyards in California or France, for instance, and looked at an organic vineyard that happens to be next to a non-organic vineyard, the differences are quite visible. Compared to organic vineyards, non-organic or “conventional” vineyards always look lifeless, practically dead: all you see is dirt between the rows, since any growth apart from vines is usually zapped with herbicides. In organic vineyards, you see not only wild grasses, brush and trees in and around the vines, and cover crops of herbs, beans and flowers planted between the rows, but also a landscape that is literally abuzz with activity – ladybugs, bees, wasps and spiders hopping between the leaves, birds all aflutter, and even squirrels and field mice (hence the owl huts normally found around sustainable vineyards) scuttling about.

If the vineyard happens to be cultivated in the even more biodiverse, holistic style called Biodynamic® – which requires at least 10% of a vineyard property to be devoted to forest, wetland, grassland, or as “insectories,” plus integration of active farm life – you’re also likely to see chickens scampering between the vines, sheep or goats munching on grass, and cattle (valued for their compost enriching manure) lowing nearby.

There is more than a world, but a universe of difference between an organic and non-organic vineyard. Between a vineyard cultivated with natural compost, monitored by beneficial insects and animals, and sprayed with teas made from herbs, compared to a vineyard hooked intravaneously to liquid fertilizer drips, zapped with herbicides, and sprayed constantly with insecticides. I know wine contains anesthesizing alcohol, but gee whiz: where would you prefer the grapes going into your wine to come from?

Quivira “Wine Creek Ranch” Zinfandel & cheeses-to-die-for

I’m recommending today’s Organic Wine Match of the Day – the 2006 Quivira Dry Creek Valley Wine Creek Ranch Zinfandel (about $34) – not only because it is 100% Biodynamic® grown and produced, but also because it’s one of the greatest Zinfandels I’ve ever tasted (and I came of Zin drinking age in 1976).

For those of you just getting a handle on biodynamics: Demeter USA actually certifies vineyards and wineries in two separate categories: “Wines Made with Biodynamic® Grapes,” and what they call “Biodynamic® Wine.” Quivira’s Wine Creek Ranch Zinfandel qualifies for the latter because not only is it grown biodynamically, it is also vinified with the highest natural standards: primarily defined by use of natural (rather than cultured) yeasts, zero additives (like sugar, tannin and acid “adjustments,” and bacteria to start malolactic fermentation), and restricted use of sulfites at bottling (for dry wines, less than 100 parts per million).

But the most important thing, however, is always how a Biodynamic® Wine tastes, and Quivira’s is an ultimate Sonoma style Zinfandel: thick as pudding, plump as a Christmas goose, and absolutely teeming with lively, concentrated, nostril tingling raspberry fruit, flooding the palate with an amazingly lithe, velvety texture despite a munificence of tannin and typical big Z alcohol (15.5%). Kudos to Quivira winemaker Steven Canter (pictured right).

Although I normally don’t hesitate to throw the Polish dogs, onion studded burgers or sweet/spicy marinated ribs on the grill when I bring up the bottles of Zin from the bottom floor, an epic bottling like the Wine Creek Ranch almost makes you want to save it for the end of a good meal, when you can show special friends and family how even a wham-bam-thank-you-m’am can shine with some well chosen cheeses.

My first choice? Have you ever had a white truffle specked Boschetto al Tartufo with a perfect Zin? Then you haven’t lived. The springy, sumptuous texture of this blend of sheep and cow milk cheese fills in the grains between a big, tannin laden Zin like the Wine Creek Ranch; while the pungent truffle, which overwhelms almost all other wines, adds complexing notes to the wine’s raspberry liqueur-like aromas.

Second and third choices: also from Italy, a Chili Pepper Pecorino’s subtle spice and grassy sheep’s milk edge brings out the peppery varietal spice almost lost in the lusciousness of a Zinfandel like the Wine Creek Ranch; while the deep, caramelized, well aged Goudas, like the Beemster 18 Year Old or Beemster XO, are some of the few cheeses in the world with the strength to carry a big Zin, and with enough natural sweet, crystal textured qualities to underscore the wine’s penetrating fruitiness.

What the heck, why don’t you go for all three of them, and throw in a fun blue veined cheese (one favorite: Holland’s Moulin Bleu) to complete the spread. Ah, life… ah Zinfandel!

Organic wine & food matching: Domaine Vigneau-Chevreau Vouvray and artisanal cheeses

Vouvray is like the girl with the Scarlett Johansson sweetness, Bette Davis wit, and knockdown Grace Kelly beauty that made all the boys in high school too dumbfounded to ever ask out (except for the dumb jocks, who’d never get a yes).

Vouvray is a thinking man and woman’s white wine because it takes brains to see through the flowery, intoxicatingly perfumed qualities of the Chenin Blanc (the required grape of this AOC), and look into the wine’s soul: the effortlessly acidic spine of the fruit grown in the Loire River Valley’s cold yet maritime moderated climate, and the deep, almost poetic substrata of flavor contributed by the soil (layers of flinty stone and clayish limestone over a plateau of solid limestone – the ultimate grape growing medium).

Earlier this month I ran into one California’s more intelligent, and artistically multiplisitc, winemakers named Larry Brooks (a founder of Acacia, former GM of Chalone, and now proprietor of Campion). I hadn’t seen Brooks in about six years, but the first thing he said to me was: “Everytime I see you, I can’t help but think of that incredible wine we shared, what, over fifteen years ago? I’ll never get that wine out of my mind.” Me, too. It was, in fact, a 1989 Vouvray Moelleux Cuvée CC by Champalou – a dessert style Vouvray exploding in a plethora of honey, scintillating acidity and minerality in spades– that will always bewitch both Brooks and me (and undoubtedly, is still doing that to wine drinkers today… I doubt that it would fade sometime soon).

Which brings us to our organic wine match of the day: the 2007 Domaine Vigneau-Chevreau Vouvray Sec Cuvée Silex (about $21; distributed by Andy Lum’s Unity Selections in Colorado). Sec refers to this Vouvray being “dry,” and Cuvée Silex refers to the flinty stones that make up a large part of the vineyard’s chalky soil, contributing a minerally, almost sea-briny nuance beneath the Vigneau-Cheveau’s honeyed apple aroma, wildflower fragrance, and mildly tart, lush, flowing, refreshingly balanced, medium bodied feel on the palate.

There is, in fact, a strong sense of terroir in the Cuvée Silex because this 69 acre vineyard has been cultivated more than organically, but also biodynamically for most of the past twenty years (receiving ECOCERT’S biodyvin certification in 1999); very much akin to the vivid, penetrating expressions of minerality and grape common to other biodynamic producers in France (some famous examples: Maison Chapoutier in the Rhône Valley, Domaine Ostertag and Marcel Deiss in Alsace, and Domaine Leflaive and Domaine Leroy in Burgundy).

Biodynamic viticulture demands turning vineyards into biodiverse farms, and applications of no less than nine specific herb and compost tea preparations in harmony with the natural rhythms of the earth, sun, moon, and seasons, observed as faithfully as the farmers who have followed the Old Farmers’ Almanac for over 200 years. But if there ever was ever any doubt about the efficacy of biodynamic growing, a simple comparison of Vigneau-Chevreau’s Vouvray with any number of other popular Vouvrays would put it to rest.

My culinary mantra has always been to fear no wine and food match: there is a perfect wine for any dish from any part of the world (I don’t believe there’s such a thing as a wine-unfriendly dish – only a lack of imagination and organoleptic openness), just as there is a delicious food match for every wine in the world. But with a wine as pure as Vigneau-Chevreau’s Cuvée Silex, I’d almost want to stick to an equally pristine, terroir expressive food match: like an artisanal, regional cheese. It needn’t be from the Loire Valley, although a Sainte-Maure de Touraine AOC goat milk cheese, coated in a slightly acidic, gunflint-gray ash, offers up an earthy purity of taste and zestiness in perfectly natural balance with this Vouvray’s earthy, crisp edged fruitiness.

Here in Colorado, I’d reach for a raw milk cheese like Windsor Dairy’s Melville; a cow’s milk cheese with a cider washed rind that positively bursts with fat, creamy flavors, with nuances of the native grass and wildflowers consumed by the Brown Swiss cows on this organic farm. Sprinkle a tiny bit of cumin on the Melville, with dabs of honey on the plate, and you’ll have wine and food match that doesn’t come down from heaven, but up from the earth so strongly expressive in both wine and cheese.

Otherwise, fresh, pearly white Chèvres like Colorado’s Haystack Mountain, Tennessee’s Bonnie Blue, Alabama’s Belle Chevre, and Georgia’s Sweetgrass Dairy (I guess you can tell that I’ve spent some time in the South in recent years) will all offer that combination of acidity and earthy, grassy fruitiness to effortlessly match this style of Vouvray. My only caveat: other than ash, steer gently away from logs crusted with pungent herbs or cracked peppercorn. You’ll want an unfettered taste of the terroir in the cheese; and generally, simple accompaniments like figs, champagne grapes, ribbons of dried apricot, or umami rich charcuterie like duck prosciutto and pork rillettes will do just fine.

Organic wine & food matching: Tres Sabores Porque No and pasta with giblets & mushrooms

Julie Johnson, winemaker/proprietor of her own Tres Sabores estate, located at the foot of the Mayacamas Mountains in the prestigious Rutherford Bench AVA of Napa Valley. Original co-founder of Women for Winesense. Former president of ZAP (Zinfandel Advocates & Producers). One of Napa Valley’s pioneers of certified organic grape growing (going back 25 years to her former association with Frog’s Leap Vineyards).

What has Johnson not done? Frankly, I can’t say, as she’s already inspired a generation of women and men devoted, as she is, to producing wines that express the “voice” (i.e. terroir) of vineyards; but even more amazingly, without a drop of self-consciousness, and with a ton of levity.

Perfect example: Johnson’s 2006 Tres Sabores ¿Porqué No? (about $20). The question, why not?, asked because, to Johnson and her cellar crew, it makes perfect sense to blend some of her certified organic estate grown Zinfandel (dominating this bottling) with invigorating if unconventional grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon and Petit Verdot, along with some peppery Petite Sirah, if indeed it all adds up to perfectly delicious, wild, juicy party juice: bursting at the seams with black cherry and purple plum aromas and flavors punctuated by cacao, resiny herb and green chile-like spices, with sticks of cinnamon and cardamom thrown in for good measure.

Yes, there’s more natural flavor stuffed into a finger of ¿Porqué No? than in a gallon of Prego; only, with big, thick, plump red wine (i.e. beneficial alcohol and resveratrol!) flavors, complete with round yet sturdy, viscously textured tannins. How does that song go? Makes me want to shout!

Well, maybe that’s the wine hollering, as I’ve just consumed a bottle along with a dish taken out of Judy Rodgers’ The Zuni Café Cookbook: pasta with giblet-mushroom sauce, echoing the invigorating, chewy yet soft, multi-faceted taste of the ¿Porqué No?. An adaption of Rodgers’ recipe:

8 oz. chicken gizzards and hearts (duck or squab pieces also okay)
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 ½ cups chopped mushrooms (white buttons or a blend of wild)
¾ cup finely diced carrots
¾ cup finely diced celery
¾ cup finely diced yellow onions
1 oz. minced pancetta (or bacon, blanched for 4 minutes)
Salt
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 ½ cups canned tomatoes (drained to about half their juice)
1 bay leaf
1 dried chili (or few pinches of dried chili flakes)
½ cup full bodied red wine (like Zinfandel or Syrah)
A few leaves of fresh Italian parsley, coarsely chopped
Sugar (optional)
1 tsp. tomato paste (optional)
1 lb. pasta (spaghetti or wide egg pasta)
Parmigiano-Reggiano (to taste)

Rinse gizzards and hearts, then press dry between towels. Remove silverskin from gizzards, chop finely along with hearts.

Warm ¼ cup olive oil in 4 qt. saucepan over medium heat. Add gizzards and cook, stirring continuously, until they turn a little golden at edges (about 5 minutes). Stir in mushrooms, carrots, celery, onions and pancetta or bacon. Add few pinches of salt and enough additional oil to coat vegetables. When mixture starts to sizzle, reduce heat to low, cover, and stew for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Stir in garlic, tomatoes, bay leaf, chili and red wine. Bring to bare simmer, cover, and cook until bits of giblet go from chewy to tender (another 45 minutes or so). Stir occasionally, scraping bottom with flat edged spatula, and adjust heat as necessary to maintain low simmer. Taste for salt.

Stir in parsley and another splash of olive oil. Uncover and simmer a little longer to concentrate brothy juices. Sauce should be shiny, rich, thick and sweet (if taste is tart or lean, add olive oil; if not slightly sweet, add pinch of sugar).

Cook pasta al dente, drain, and fold into giblet-mushroom sauce. Grate Parmigiano to taste.

Organic wine & food matching: Quivira Sauvignon Blancs & fresh herbed pastas

“Trying to uncover what a vineyard is trying to say,” says Steven Canter, winemaker of Quivira Vineyards in Sonoma’s Dry Creek Valley, “is like an archeologist brushing away the sand.”

Plucked by Quivira three years ago from the celebrated Torbreck Vintners in Barossa Valley, Australia, Canter is an American who had come to Sonoma in a roundabout way: first inspired by Kermit Lynch’s earthy, terroir driven imports from France, then wandering the world looking for the vinous meaning of life while picking up jobs as a cellarer in California, Oregon, Italy and South Africa.

The Quivira estate would make a particularly interesting Rubik’s Cube for any winemaker, as it sits on the gravelly, well drained yet fertile loam that has long made Dry Creek Valley a quintessential source of California style Sauvignon Blanc, Zinfandel and Petite Sirah. Planted and replanted over a course of fifty years, according to Canter, “we could see what people were doing in the ‘70s, the ‘80s, the ‘90s, etc.,” and Canter feels that he is just continuing this evolutionary process.

Grape varieties lower in pyrazine (the molecules that contribute the green herbal notes of wines like Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon) were retrained on heads to make a truer, umbrella-like goblet, establishing the dappled-sunlight combination of protection (from sunburn) and exposure Canter likes to see for grapes like Zinfandel, Syrah and Grenache. Older sections were pulled out and replanted with three times more plant density. A whole half acre was removed to make room for 500 cubic yards of compost, and no less than 120 raised beds were installed for cover crop seeding, herbs going into Biodynamic® teas, and vegetables to supply a number of local restaurants.


Quivira, in fact, became certified by Demeter USA as a Biodynamic® vineyard in 2005, and as part of this holistic concept, you’ll also find large contingents of chickens and goats doing their part; gobbling up pests and mowing down weeds, around and between the rows of vines, carpeted by rye grass, Austrian winter peas, beans, purple vetch, and (in beautiful bloom during our visit in March) calendula. In respect to Biodynamic preparations, Canter has transitioned Quivira even further; to the point where all the herb and compost teas are produced on-premise (including preparations 500 and 501 – from manure and quartz stuffed cow horns, buried in autumn/winter and spring/summer respectively), as opposed to being purchased from the Josephine Porter Institute in Virginia.

Aside from Zinfandel, Quivira’s piece de resistance has always been one of the freshest, purest Sauvignon Blancs this side of France. In Canter’s hands, the Quivira Sauvignon Blanc has evolved into a slightly crisper, citrus fresh white, with more distinctive bottom notes of minerals and stones in harmony with floral perfumes (the softer quality of the Sémillon grape has been eliminated, as this was one of the first sections of the vineyard to go upon Canter’s arrival). In current release are two lots of Sauvignon Blanc:

2007 Quivira Fig Tree Vineyard Sauvignon Blanc (about $18) – Fresh pear, green melony aromas tinged with fresh pea and wet stones; flinty dry on the palate, the melon and subtle pea-like flavors finishing with a citrusy snap in a medium sized (not light, not heavy) body.

2007 Quivira Barrel Complete Sauvignon Blanc (about $28) – From the same grapes going into the Fig Tree cuvée, only partially barrel fermented (40%) in new oak (half French white oak, and half Acacia; the latter from a French cooper, absent the strong vanillin flavor white oak contributes to wine); adding up to a moderately scaled dry white with a subtle creaminess and distinctively silkier texture enhancing the floral, melony, citrusy, minerally qualities found in the Fig Tree.

When it comes to food, Quivira Sauvignons make effortless matches in classic dry white contexts. But when I taste these pristinely fresh whites, I cannot help but think of fresh pasta drizzled with fruity green olive oil and a mix of leafy green herbs, emphasizing the organic qualities in the wines. Here’s an interesting concept I found in the archives of KitchenGardener Magazine: setting the table with plain linguine, and allowing guests to choose their garnishes (choices of chopped, Sauvignon Blanc-friendly chives, parsley and fennel, along with shaved Parmigiano).

The only thing I’d add to the pasta table would be the additional choice of Pecorino Romano, since this sheep milk grating cheese connects with dry whites like Quivira’s on two levels: the natural sharpness of the cheese balancing the crisp edge of Sauvignon Blanc, and the pungent earthiness of the cheese playing up the subtle, stony, leafy qualities of the wine the way Chuck Berry plays his guitar (like a’ ringing a bell).

Southern Oregon Is the Real Deal

A number of Willamette Valley's most prestigious winemakers -- like Ken Wright (pictured below), Lynn Penner-Ash (left), and Laurent Montalieu -- have been crafting Southern Oregon sourced wines for years.

You may think this has been just for "fun," but au contraire: these vignerons are dead serious about their belief that Southern Oregon is one of the greatest wine regions in the world... especially for Syrah.

To quote Pinot wine god, Ken Wright: Southern Oregon's Rogue Valley Syrah is "more Old World than New World, a delineated Syrah -- graphite, cedar, blueberries, raspberries, and very balanced, never over the top..."

Southern Oregon, in fact, is the real deal. For more details on the terroir and notes on current outstanding releases (Syrahs and Pinot Noirs) from this underrated region, please see this story penned by yours truly for the March 2009 issue of Sommelier Journal, and everything shall be revealed!

Organic wine & food matching: Pierre Morey Meursault & coq au vin blanc

For Pierre Morey – the former (and legendary) winemaker of Domaine Leflaive, and proprietor of his own Domaine Pierre Morey in Burgundy, France – farming biodynamically (his vineyards Biodyvin certified since 1997) is a matter of stewardship: turning over vineyards from one generation to another at the peak of health and productivity.

Morey is particularly known for his white wines, with family holdings in Meursault and Puligny-Montrachet in Burgundy’s Côte de Beaune, the original home, and center of the universe, as far as any producer of Chardonnay is concerned. But if you are drawing the conclusion that these white wines espouse enormous body, power and concentration of Chardonnay character, let me gently say: it is in the expression of the terroir, rather than grape, that the wines of Domaine Morey excel. As eloquently portrayed in this film, entitled Generations In Harmony:


Domaine Pierre Morey: Generations in Harmony from Wilson Daniels on Vimeo.

You may pay, for instance, about $94 (suggested retail) for a bottle of 2006 Pierre Morey Meursault, but what you get is not a wham-bam wine stuffed with “gobs” of sweet Chardonnay sensations, but rather a wine of uncommonly delicate, refined balance and texture; everything according to a moderately weighted scale to express fresh, honeyed apples, notes of mineral, slivers of toasted nuts, and a transparent, silken backdrop of mildly charred oak draped over a foundation of polished, stony dryness.

In other words, a taste of Meursault, not Chardonnay.

Coq au Vin Blanc

Which also happens to whet my appetite for this twist of the classic Burgundian dish – usually made with a red wine, but which we make with a white – that we call coq au vin blanc:

8 pieces chicken thighs (mostly) and legs (or one 5 lb. chicken, cut in serving pieces)
24-30 pearl onions
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
6 oz. bacon strips or slab, squared or cubed
8 oz. button mushrooms, quartered
1 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 bottle (750 ml.) white wine (inexpensive Chardonnay will do)
1 medium yellow onion, quartered
2 stalks celery, quartered
2 medium carrots, quartered
3 cloves garlic, crushed
6-8 springs fresh thyme
1 bay leaf
2 cups chicken stock or broth

Cut off root end of each pearl onion and make an “x” with knife in its place. Bring 2-3 cups water to boil and drop in the onions for 1 minute. Remove onions from pot, allow to cool, and peel (onions should slide right out of skin). Set aside.

Blanch bacon briefly in boiling water; drain, and dice or cube. Fry to render fat; remove meat and set aside, and save fat for frying.

Sprinkle chicken pieces on all sides with salt and ground pepper. Place chicken pieces, a few at a time, into a large (1-2 gallon) sealable plastic bag along with flour; shake to coat chicken completely. Remove chicken from bag, and fry in bacon fat, just until crust is crisp. Set chicken pieces aside.

In same pan, add pearl onions to fat, sprinkle with salt and pepper, sautéing until lightly brown (approximately 8-10 minutes). Remove onions from pan and set aside. Transfer chicken into a 7-8 quart enameled cast (like Le Creuset) or cast iron Dutch oven.

Add mushrooms to the same 12 inch sauté pan, adding 1 tbsp. butter if needed, and sauté until liquid is released (approximately 5 minutes). Store onions, mushrooms and bacon in airtight container in the refrigerator until ready to use.

Pour off remaining fat and deglaze pan with approximately 1 cup of wine. Pour this into Dutch oven along with chicken stock, quartered onion, carrots, celery, garlic, thyme and bay leaf. Add all of the remaining wine. Preheat oven to 325° F.

Place chicken in oven and cook for 2 to 2½ hours, or until chicken is tender. Maintain a very gentle simmer and stir occasionally.

Once chicken is done, remove it to a heatproof container, cover, and place in oven to keep warm. Strain the sauce in a sieve and degrease (discard carrots, celery, thyme, garlic and bay leaf). Return the sauce to a pot, place over medium heat, and reduce by 1/3 (depending on how much liquid you began with, this should take 20-45 minutes).

When sauce has thickened, add pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon, and cook another 15 minutes or until heated through. Taste and adjust seasonings if necessary; remove from heat, add the chicken and serve. Serve from Dutch oven with either long grained white rice or lightly buttered egg noodles; and of course, with a classic white Burgundy such as Meursault.
Note: if sauce is not thick enough at the end of reducing, you may add a mixture of equal parts butter and flour kneaded together, starting with 1 tbsp. each. Whisk this in the sauce for 4-5 minutes, and repeat if necessary.

Organic Wine & Food Matching: Domaine Tempier Bandol & smoked pulled pork

Collette wrote of France’s Jurançon: when I was a young girl, I was introduced to a passionate Prince, domineering and two-timing like all great seducers…

My lifelong affair has been with Domaine Tempier’s Bandol rouge, which began in the early 1980s, when I was first introduced to the French imports of Kermit Lynch. In the beginning, I did not understand the compulsion: it was a red wine that always seem to have a spirit – whether it was in the mysterious, earthy, scrubby, leathery notes that often seem to engulf the aromas of berry liqueurs in the nose, or the slightly sparkly, lively, lilting quality in the texture of the wine itself, almost belying a meatiness of tannin and dried grape skin flavor.

Whatever the case, it was like my first love, which happened to be a girl from a Hawaiian plantation – a black maned mestiza, first sighted bouncing up onto the back of a truck, work gloves belted at the waist, jeans snug around the thighs and tucked into dusty leather, steel tip work boots, and (like me) 15 years old going on whatevah. I was tongue tied and discombobulated for weeks; and even long after, incapable of understanding exactly why ordinary conversation seemed as strenuous as swimming in mud.

But conversation with the maddening mestiza did continue for some time, thank you; but with Bandol, the conversation has been going for much longer. It is, after all is said and done, a wine that never seems light or heavy, lean nor fat, zesty but never sharp, delicious with a stew of meat, and delicious with a stew of fish. In short, the perfect lifelong companion.

Many years later, reading the chapter devoted to Domaine Tempier in Kermit Lynch’s classic book, Adventures on the Wine Route, I came to understand why this wine, of all wines, retains its eternal, dusty leathered youth: particularly the fact that it comes from a magnificent vineyard in Provence’s Le Plan de Castellet, close enough to the Mediterranean where the air is pungent with the smell of the ocean mixed with scrubby herbs of the chalky hillsides. How François Peyraud plowed and hoed the field by hand rather resort to herbicides, and fought mildew by spraying the vines (mostly Mourvèdre, with some grapes of the Grenache) only with natural sulfur from the soil of a nearby region so that the terroir could remain pristine and protected from artificial intrusion.

And how Jean-Marie Peyraud, following his father Lucien’s lead, aged the Bandol strictly in large, well used casks (rather than new, small oak barrels) so that the wine tasted of grapes and earth rather than freshly hewn trees, and bottled with absolutely no sulfites so that years after, when drinking Domaine Tempier Bandol, you would still feel like you were drinking directly from the cask, when the wine still tastes like it is just squeezed from the grapes.

Indeed, Domaine Tempier’s Bandol is a wine that really doesn’t age. That is to say, it will retain its deep color and fragrance – in fact, deepen in color and fragrance – even as the years fly by. I kid you not, as this very fact was driven home to me one night (oh, about eleven years ago) when Kermit himself served me a muscular 20 year old Vieux Télégraphe Châteauneuf-du-Pape, followed by a regally scented 20 year old Chave Hermitage, followed by a 20 year old Domaine Tempier… all double-blind (the identities of the wines hidden from me in decanters), and densest, darkest, most fragrant wine of the three was still, after all that time, the Bandol!

But I wasn’t surprised, because I’d already been entangled with Bandol for some time. Now are you getting interested?

Okay, then you must first find yourself a bottle of the 2006 Domaine Tempier Bandol Classique (about $40); which, although is an entry level Bandol (Tempier produces several single vineyard Bandols with even more pent-up energy and power), has all the Bandolishness you need: a nose of sweet berries (sometimes I think cassis, other times framboise) floating over the glass with wispy, invisible clouds of earth (freshly composted humus… perfume to a gardener) and gunflint mixed with a subtle ocean salinity; and on the palate, juicy, rich, medium to full flavors, tugging at the senses like that old, familiar, perfectly agreeable pain (ah, that girl from the fields).

Island Style Smoked Pulled Pork

When Kermit and I tasted that 20 year old Bandol, he and his wife Gail Skoff served up squab and a casserole of scalloped potatoes layered with truffles. Of course, the match was perfect in every way, but not exactly your normal Friday night meal. In lieu of that, I prescribe slow smoked birds, like duck or Cornish game hen. But from many years of experience, I also know that Bandol’s salt and flint nuanced berry qualities are absolutely delicious with Island style smoked pulled pork (what we call kalua pig), which differs from Southern style pulled pork in that it’s not mixed in or served with a vinegary, sweet-spicy barbecue sauce (Bandol doesn’t have the pointedly sweet, berry jam flavors like, say, California Zinfandel to handle American barbecue sauces).

No, for Bandol all you need is a fork tender, steamy pile of smoked pork dolled up with nothing more than rock salt. The ancient Hawaiians traditionally dug a 6 x 4 x 3 foot hole in the ground to make their kalua – the whole pig cooked over blazing hot rocks, covered with banana leaves and burlap, and then buried in the ground to steam a good 24 hours. I’m not suggesting you find your fatted pig, dig up the backyard or drive down to Louisiana for your banana leaves. After many years of living off-island, I’ve devised my own total “lazy man’s” way of cooking Hawaiian style pulled pork, requiring nothing more than time:

5-8 lb. pork butt
¼ cup sea salt (Hawaiian if you can find it; kosher in a pinch)
2 oz. liquid smoke (or ½ bottle of Wright’s Liquid Hickory Smoke)

Pre-heat oven to 350° F. Score pork and place in a big enough Dutch oven. Combine salt and liquid smoke and rub all over pork. Pour water half-way up side of pork; cover with heavy duty aluminum foil and roast in oven, at least 1 hour per pound. The entire house will smell like a smoker, but that’s okay… just open a window and pop a well chilled bottle of Bandol rosé (some say, the finest dry pink wine in the world). Remove pork from water, place in large bowl and shred with tongs or strong forks. Mix in additional rock salt to taste. Serve with steamed white rice, collard greens or spinach, fresh sliced tomatoes, the Bandol rouge, and you’re in business!

Organic wine & food matching: Ca' del Solo Muscat & Dong steamed whole fish

Because something is happening here, and you don’t know what it is...

The 2008 Ca’ del Solo Muscat (Monterey County; about $18) is not just another pretty girl; as lightly sweet, delectable and fragrant a white wine as it is, blooming with notes of tropical flowers (jasmine and frangipani), lychee and white peppery spices (or as the back label describes it, with Nabokovan alliteration, “a musky, melodious, melon-like meditation on minerality”). It also ranks as another battle cry against convention launched by a winemaker who has done more than make a career out of idiosyncrisity – he has made a career out of turning idiosyncrisities into norms.

Ca’ del Solo, for those of you who’ve been around the block, used to be a brand, formulated by Bonny Doon winemaker (and “President for Life”) Randall Grahm, signifying Italian inspired grapes, wine styles, and yes, leetle girl labels. Today, Ca’ del Solo labels bear “crystalline” micro-snapshots of each wine, captured in their petri dish; connected to silver strings that make the crystallizations look more like floating ova than kids’ balloons.

Ca’ del Solo now also stands mostly for Grahm’s recent conversion, like an Kierkegaardian winemaker of infinite resignation, to biodynamic viticulture.

No matter how “loopy” anyone may say biodynamics – complete with the burying of manure filled cow horns in the vineyard, the spraying of herbal teas according to phases of the moon, etc. -- can be, there could be no sobering a reminder of exactly why many of the world’s most respected vignerons have recently turned to the teachings of the Austrian philosopher Rudolf Steiner than the news, reported last week in the Associated Press, concerning allegations of an “organic” company selling fertilizers secretly “spiked” with synthetic chemicals to CCOF certified farms all over California.

Kathleen Inman, winemaker/owner of Sonoma’s Inman Family Wines, wrote me, saying that “it certainly adds another ‘tick’ in the yes column of why moving towards more self-sustainable farming is a good idea.” Inman, who fashions her own liquid fertilizers from worm castings from a nearby worm farm, says “being biodynamic is ideal,” although for now, she is content to make do by supplying her own small organic vineyard strictly from resources she can trust.

Grahm, however, did not simply convert to the full-fledged self-sustainability of biodynamic viticulture. In 2004 he went so far as to divest his wine production company of his two biggest brands, Cardinal Zin and Big House, thus taking his annual production down from 450,000 cases to 35,000 cases (what he called “Doon-sizing”), specifically to finance the development of 120 acres of vineyards near Soledad, California into a 100% biodynamic farm. Ca’ del Solo, the name of the property as well as the label under which these biodynamic wines are being bottled, was certified by Demeter® USA in 2007.

As much as he loved sourcing forgotten, even “ugly duckling,” grapes up and down the California coast to make his Bonny Doon wines (such as his ground breaking, critically acclaimed Southern Rhône style blend, Le Cigare Volant, and his immensely successful Pacific Rim Riesling), Grahm says in the end it “wasn’t sustainable emotionally or spiritual for me.”

This is how Philippe Coderey, the biodynamic guru to whom Grahm turned to direct his vineyard operations, voices Grahm’s revised conception of terroir: “Most conventional wines are fruity… you can feel the fruit, and then, after that… nothing.” By eschewing chemical fertilizers and avoiding things like irrigation, however, the biodynamic grower “is training his vines to go deep into the soil.” Once vines are converted to biodynamic practices that establish a biological and, yes, even spiritual symbiosis with the soil, “you will find inside the bottle of wine the minerality that gives the wine complexity… you’re tasting not only the fruits, but also the soil.” Hence for Grahm, a more fulfilling, transparent sense of terroir.

Dong Festive Steamed Whole Fish

Enough verbiage, what can the Ca’ del Solo Muscat do for you? There are no less than three ways to enjoy this wine, in all its winsome, wise-crackling, perfumed precocity: First, utterly naked, as a well chilled, palate freshening apéritif. Secondly, poured over ice, upon which the wine’s mild sparkle perceptively sighs with pleasure, with a wheel of lime or sprig of mint to bring out the Muscat’s citrus zest and minty freshness of flavors.

Or third, to experience the full, dynamic food versatility of off-dry, buoyantly fresh whites like the Ca’ del Solo, with this recipe for Dong festive steamed whole fish, culled from Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid’s fascinating cookbook/travelogue on the outskirts of China, Beyond the Great Wall:

One 1½ lb. red snapper, cleaned and scaled
¾ tsp. salt
1 tbsp. minced ginger
2 scallions, cut lengthwise into ribbons and then into 2 inch lengths
1 red cayenne chile, seed and cut into thin strips
Generous 1 tsp. peanut oil (or vegetable oil)
5 or 6 Sichuan peppercorns, lightly crushed

To steam fish, you will need a 12 to 14 inch wide bamboo steamer and a wok with a wide pot with a bamboo or metal steamer insert. You will also need a deep heatproof plate (there will be some pan juices) that fits into the steamer and is wide enough to hold the fish (curve fish or trim off end of the tail if necessary).

Wash fish well and dry. Place fish on cutting board and cut 2 or 3 parallel diagonal slashes on each side, cutting down to the bone. Rub all over lightly with salt. Rub minced ginger into the slashes and into the fish cavity. Place fish on plate, and sprinkle scallion ribbons into the cavity and over the fish. Sprinkle any remaining ginger over the top of the fish, and then sprinkle on the red chile strips. Place the plate with the fish in the steamer basket or insert.

Place the wok or pot on the stove and add about 2 inches of water. Place the steamer basket in the wok or pot (make sure water level is below steamer), and bring the water to boil over high heat. Cover the steamer tightly and cook 10-11 minutes, until fish is firm and the flesh in the slashes is opaque and flakes when pulled with a fork.

Meanwhile, just before fish is done (at about the 9 minute mark), heat the oil in a small wok or skillet. When it is very hot, toss in the Sichuan pepper, lower the heat to medium, and cook for 30 seconds. Remove from heat.

Uncover the cooked fish and pour the hot oil over it. Lift the steamer out and onto a work surface, then remove the plate from the steamer. Serve the fish on the plate, with its pan juices, hot or at room temperature. Serve with steamed white rice.

Final remarks: as with any recipe, you needn’t be slavish to this outer-rim style of steamed fish. In Hawai`i for instance, we typically add crushed garlic and rough cut sprigs of cilantro to our steamed fish, and peanut oil is usually sizzled with a dose of soy sauce. Either way, the Muscat’s peppery spiced, citrus fresh fruitiness is the ideal match; the sweetness balancing the chile spice, hot oil and/or soy to a tee, and the tropical flower and fruit qualities reflecting the gingery sensations and digging deep into the delicate white flesh of the snapper… a symbiosis of wine and food terroir!

Organic Wine & Food Matching: Domaine Carneros Brut & Authentic Hawaiian Poke

The French have been making sparkling wine in California for so long, you almost overlook the extraordinary quality of their wines: the closest thing to fine, complex champagne grown and produced outside Champagne, France in the world.

Each of the major firms have made dramatic impacts on the industry: beginning in the mid-1970s, Domaine Chandon with its focus on the three classic grapes of Champagne (Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier) grown in the coolest section (Carneros) in Napa Valley; Mumm Napa with its brilliant blending in adjustment to California’s sunnier climes, Roederer Estate for its bold exploration of Mendocino’s Anderson Valley, and now, Domaine Carneros by Taittinger for its French-like sense of long-term sustainablility, moving towards 100% organic grape growing soon after establishing its 300 acres in Carneros in 1987.

Consider this: in the early 1990s it wasn’t quite hip to be green; especially among neighbors who, although they may farm sustainably, still insist on the option of zapping their vines at the first sign of trouble. After receiving CCOF certification in 2008, Domaine Carneros’ longtime President and Chief Winemaker (since 1989) Eileen Crane (pictured above) remarked, “Certified organic viticulture means you can’t just give the vineyard a shot of penicillin when it gets sick.”

Committing to organics, especially in the beginning, is a process, often at the expense of perceived efficiency. Instead of wiping out mealy bugs with chemicals, for instance, you use chickens, who love mealy bugs. “Now, of course,” says Crane, “we have to protect the chickens from coyotes… if you think outside the box, some experiments might not work out, but you learn from them what the next step should be.”

Green consciousness has always been important to Domaine Carneros (the winery also employs solar power, skylights and underground insulation rather than refrigeration), but the evolution has always been one and the same with that of this centuries old French Champagne house’s first priority, which is producing the finest wines. “We believe that you achieve this through healthy vines,” say Crane, while adding, “you want to be part of something that’s not just for the moment… we want people to enjoy their jobs and the vines.”

I’ll toast to that, which brings up our organic wine match of the day: the 2005 Domaine Carneros Brut (about $26); and make no mistake, this is as fine a sparkler made in California, organic grapes or not. In the classic Taittinger style, the highlight is its texture – creamy smooth, like waves of silk caressing the lips – and wispy fragrances of wildflowers, baking apples, rising bread and buttery slivers of toasted hazelnut, extending over a long, zesty palate of distinct delicacy.

Light and lovely sparklers like this certainly don’t need food to be complete; like food, its refined effervescence is resuscitative in itself. But you can also think of the Domaine Carneros in the same way as you would most lighter bodied, dry or off-dry white wines with crisp, sharply defined acidity that freshens dishes like squeezes of lemon. White fish and minerally shellfish (shrimp, crab, oysters and lobster) are naturals, especially in the form of sashimi, tartare, seviche, salsas, Hawaiian poke, or in salads with mild, winey vinaigrettes.

Authentic Hawaiian Poke

Speaking of which, have you ever had authentic Hawaiian poke (pronounced POH-kay)? Even in the Islands, the variations are endless, but I can’t say that most Mainland renditions, done at the hands of “creative” chefs, come decently close to the Hawaiian originals. When in doubt, stick to the simple, original style, in which you can taste the ocean itself.

Although the early Hawaiian fishermen didn’t use soy sauce or chiles (their poke was probably no more than chopped seaweed, rock salt and ground kukui nuts), this is a version considered basic in Hawai`i today:

2 lbs. sashimi grade ‘ahi tuna, cut into bite-sized cubes (poke means “cut piece”)
½ cup soy sauce
3/4 cup chopped green onions
2 tbsp. sesame oil
1-2 tbsp. Hawaiian (preferably) rock salt, to taste
1 or 2 red chile peppers (small Thai types), cored, seeded and finely minced
1 tbsp. toasted sesame seeds
½-1 cup limu kohu (seaweed), blanched and chopped
1 tbsp. toasted macadamia nuts (ground or finely chopped)

Making this is simply a matter of tossing and mixing (chill before serving); and if you do it often, you end up going by feel rather than measurements. Although the reddish-brown limu seaweed is a key ingredient in the Islands, you can enjoy the pure taste of poke style tuna – with which a dry, yeasty, refined sparkler like Domaine Carneros washes over like a hissing, foamy soft wave climbing up a feathery, golden sand Hawaiian beach – without it.

The sesame seeds are another nice option; if you find the seeds plain, you can toast them by placing them in a small dry saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally until golden brown (about three minutes). Finally, although I can usually do without the macadamia nuts, I’d add it in for the Domaine Carneros because, like the sesame seeds, it offers a nice flavor bridge to the wine’s toasted nut nuances. To toast whole macadamias, spread them over a baking sheet in a preheated 300° F. oven 5-6 minutes, until lightly browned, and… aloha!

Organic wine & food matching: Marcel Deiss Engelgarten & saffroned chicken biryani

In Alsace, a part of France full of famous rebels – like André Ostertag, Charles Schléret, and Zind-Humbrecht’s Olivier Humbrecht – Jean-Michel Deiss (right) has played the role of absolute pariah.

It’s not so much that he took the organically cultivated vineyards inherited from his grandfather, Marcel Deiss, and turned them into biodynamic farms by 1997. The domaines of Marc Kreydenweiss, Zind-Humbrecht, Ostertag and other top Alsatian vignerons are also farmed biodynamically. More than anything, what has rubbed colleagues and local authorities the wrong way has been Deiss’ total disregard of the sanctity of singular varietal bottling; for in Alsace, the finest wines have always been bottled by the names of the great grapes of Alsace – namely, Riesling, Gewürztraminer, Pinot Gris, Pinot Blanc and Muscat d’Alsace.

Instead, Deiss’ finest wines are bottled simply by the name of Marcel Deiss along with the names of their vineyard sources: such as the grand crus Schoenenbourg and Altenberg de Bergheim vineyards, and premier crus such as Burg, Rotenberg, Gruenspiel and Engelgarten. But no mention of any grape on the label.

Deiss himself says that a turning point was in 1993, when a Riesling from his Burg vineyard was criticized for not tasting like a “Riesling.” This prompted Deiss to not just remove the names of grapes from his single vineyard bottlings, but also to start planting as many as seven different varieties in his best vineyards (which, also unusually, Deiss harvests and co-ferments all at once). No more blind following of tradition, he has said, because of obligatory feelings. “I realized that the grape in a vineyard is an ingredient, but not a dish… it is wrong to transform the energy of a unique place into a ‘Riesling’… by having many varieties in Burg I am giving the terroir different letters so it can create sentences.”

Hence, no winemaker in Alsace focuses as much on terroir as Jean-Michel Deiss. As in our organic wine of the day: the 2003 Marcel Deiss Engelgarten (about $45), which is a field blend composed mostly of Riesling, Pinot Gris and Auxerrois. True to Deiss’ intentions, this white wine does not taste of any one grape; but rather, in the words of Deiss’ winemaker Marie-Hélène Christofaro (right), like a “filtering” of wine through the gravel dominating Engelgarten’s soil. Nevertheless, the nose is honeyed, suggesting ripe, juicy, white fleshed stone fruits (peach, nectarine and lychee); and a steely, austere entry gives way quickly to almost sweet, viscous sensations of the honeyed fruit, before finishing with a mouth-watering bang and emphatically stony, faintly bitter, citrus peel dryness.

Peculiar, maybe even strange… yes. Expressive and flavorful… ditto...

Saffroned Chicken Biryani

And you know what I love even more about the Engelgarten? This wine’s electrifying minerality and multi-grape fruit complexity make a match for dishes few other wines in the world are up to handling. No, I’m not talking Asian/fusion sweet, sour, salty, or spicy food sensations. I’m thinking specifically of dishes dominated by the flavor of saffron – that wild, indescribably pure, organic seasoning derived directly from the stigma of the crocus flower.

Of course, being a wine guy, I do have words for saffron. To me, saffon infused foods suggest sea water, citrus peel, burnt hay, roasted clove, warm humus, dusty velvet, sun dried fruit and sex. I know many people say saffron makes them laugh, and many others just smile. Me, I just get hungry, like for this Kuwaiti style dish of saffroned chicken biryani, adapted from Peter Mentzel and Faith d’Aluisio’s Hungry Planet:

2½ cups basmati rice
1 tsp. saffron, soaked 10 minutes in warm water
2 tsp. canola oil
2 medium sweet onions, minced
4 cloves garlic, crushed
½ tsp. fresh ginger, minced
1 whole chicken (about 4 lbs.), cut into pieces
salt (to taste)
1 tbsp. ground coriander
1 tsp. turmeric
3 tsp. allspice
2 tbsp. butter
1 cup plain yogurt
1 medium fresh tomato, diced
1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice

Optional garnishes:
1 medium sweet onion, minced (fried to brown crispness)
¼ cup golden raisins, fried
1/8 cup crushed cashews, fried
¼ cup pine nuts, toasted

Heat Dutch oven pot on stove and add oil; when oil is hot, add onions, garlic, and ginger, and sauté until onions are transluscent. Add chicken pieces, salt, coriander, turmeric, 1 tsp. of allspice, yogurt, tomato and lemon juice. Stir over moderate heat for 7 minutes, taking care to prevent yogurt from boiling. Add water to cover chicken, with salt to taste; cover with lid and cook at high simmer for 45 minutes. Towards end, preheat oven to 350°.

Add rice to pot with butter, saffron and remaining allspice; stir to combine. Cover pot with aluminum foil and pot lid, and cook in oven for 45 minutes. In meantime, prepare garnishes (fry raisins and cashews with onions). Remove pot from oven, stir to combine, sprinkle over garnishes, and serve.

Organic wine & food matching: Paul Dolan Zinfandel & Memphis dry rub barbecued pork

The first two things I need to tell you about the 2006 Paul Dolan Zinfandel (about $19) is that it’s produced by the former CEO/Winemaker of Fetzer Vineyards – one of California’s pioneers of organic grape growing – named, of course, Paul Dolan, and that it is indeed vinified 100% from CCOF certified organic grapes.

The second thing I need to tell you about the Paul Dolan Zinfandel is that it is not to be taken seriously. Which is not to say it isn’t a fine wine, because it is very fine indeed. But it is also a smooth, easy, fruit driven red wine – redolent of peppery spiced, sweet raspberry-veering-towards-blueberry aromas, and soft, ripe and piquant on the palate – guaranteed to lift the spirit and satisfy the soul if (and only if) enjoyed with a sense of levity rather than gravity.

In fact, to put you in the mood, even before you go out and purchase said Zinfandel, I want to assign you this homework – a clip by one of Hawai`i’s comedic legends, Rap Reiplinger, portraying a cooking show host named Auntie Marialani, teaching us exactly how to inspect our red wine (“not too sweet, not too rancid, but ju-u-ust right”) before cooking with it:



Auntie Marialani, as you should have seen, doesn’t quite connect the dots between her wine and dish, but that’s okay. Zesty, buoyantly balanced Zinfandels like Paul Dolan’s do not require a lot of thought: it will match lasagna or spaghetti and meatballs with as much aplomb as it would teriyaki beef and rice, sticky smoked barbecued ribs, fenneled or chili spiced sausages, well aged goudas and cheddars, and even arugula or mesclun salads dolled up with beets or chèvre, shaved parmigiano or crispy cornbread croutons, or just plain blackpepper, olive oil and dabs of balsamic vinegar.

But if I had to choose one match, I would prescribe two bottles of Paul Dolan Zinfandel (one for you, one for me) with a classic style of American dry rubbed pork ribs (my favorite: re this recipe for Memphis style dry rub). Ju-u-st right!

Organic wine & food matching: Vertvs Tempranillo & Hawaiian beef stew

There’s a memorable story in Cervantes’ Don Quixote, told by the faithful Sancho Panza, of the great wine judges in his lineage; particularly, two on his father’s side who were once challenged to identify a wine from a barrel. The first one brought the wine to the tip of his tongue, and declared the flavor of iron. The second one just needed to pass it under his nose before declaring a stronger flavor of cordovan leather. The owner of the wine protested, however, saying his wine was perfectly clean, with no trace of iron or leather. Days later, though, after the wine was sold and the barrel emptied, cellarers found a small iron key at the bottom of the barrel, hanging by a thong of leather.

The story of these men from La Mancha took place at the start of the 1600s, during the same period of time Cervantes wrote his epic tale. Sometimes we forget how old the fine arts – like literature, wine judging, and great winemaking – really are.

There are written records from the court of King Pedro I of Castilla in Spain, for instance, dating Bodegas Iranzo back to 1335. Evidently, the family of Iranzo Perez-Duque is still going strong after over six hundred years, as our organic wine of the day – Iranzo’s 2003 Vertvs Tempranillo Crianza (about $14) – is as bright, rose petal fresh, raisiny ripe and round as any red wine in the world. Doing justice to the Spanish connoisseurs of olde, Doug Frost MW/MS goes further by describing it as “layered and vibrant… soft… a little grippy… red raspberry, cooked cranberries, blueberry hints…” and whom, bodacious mis amigos, am I to argue?

The vineyard plantings of Bodegas Iranzo – in the region of Utiel-Requena, made up of lime-crusted sandy soils in hills some 2,700 ft. in elevation, just off the Mediterranean coast near Valencia – are also fortunate enough to be located in the middle of a National Reserve Park, and for centuries were cultivated naturally, without the use of modern day chemicals or fertilizers. So it was simply natural for this estate to attain, in 1994, one of Spain’s first EU/Agricultura Ecológica certifications; and the first in all of Spain to receive USDA National Organic Program accreditation as well.

Bodegas Iranzo’s fertilizers, as it were, are derived from sheep manure from extensively farmed flocks within the district; and the family has encouraged further biodiversity, since the 1950s, by maintaining a program of reforestation on some 75 acres of surrounding land with native woodland species, as well as the establishment of a nearby flora micro-reserve.

Hawaiian Beef Stew

But all this is beside the most important point for us: the wine makes damned good drinking; full flavored, yet soft and warming on the palate. It’s this kind of wine, in fact, that always makes me think of soft, warming dishes like Louisiana style red beans and rice, or Mexican machaca (shredded beef). But since I’m from the Islands, I have to say that it may be even better with a luscious tomato, carrot and beef studded Hawaiian beef stew, which comes in as many variations as Islanders who cook. This recipe -- adapted from Muriel Miura and Betty Shimabukuro’s What Hawai’i Likes to Eat -- is pretty much basic, but guaranteed deliciousness:

2 lbs. lean stewing beef, cut into 1-inch cubes
½ cup flour
¼ cup canola oil
2 medium sized sweet onions, wedged
1 clove garlic, pressed
5 cups water
2 bay leaves, broken in half
½ cup red wine (or dry sherry)
2 tsp. salt (or to taste)
¼ tsp. black pepper
2 cans (8 oz.) tomato sauce
1 can (13.5 oz.) whole or stewed tomatoes
4 carrots, about ¾ inch chunks
4 potatoes, pared and quartered
1 cup sliced celery

Dredge beef in flour; brown lightly on all sides in hot oil. Add onions and garlic; brown lightly. Add water and bay leaves; simmer 1½ hours, or until beef is tender. Add remaining ingredients; simmer additional 30-60 minutes, or until vegetables are tender. If desired, thicken stew with flour water mixture. Serves 6-8, and strongly recommended with steamed white Japanese rice.

Organic wine & food matching: Gemtree Shiraz & Korean style barbecued shortribs

left, Gemtree's Melissa Buttery and Mike Brown

While organic or biodynamic wines coming out of Australia have been far and between, the movement does exist Down Under; and certification agencies such as Australian Certified Organic (ACO), Demeter in Australia’s Bio-Dynamic Research Institute (BDRI), and National Association for Sustainable Agriculture, Australia (NASAA) have recently stepped up activities, with a number of leading producers (such as Henschke, Burge Family, Elderton, Noon, Wirra Wirra and M. Chapoutier Australia) making the transition to chemical-free, sustainable grape growing as we speak.

In the meantime, a perfectly delicious, biodynamically grown Australian red – the 2007 Gemtree Tadpole Shiraz (about $16) – has been popping up in markets across the U.S., and it has all the deep, black, bouncy, lush fruitiness Shiraz lovers look for in their reds; including an intense nose, suggesting raspberry liqueur, boysenberry jam and a veneer of vanillin oak, plus a soft medium-full body underlined by easy tannins, allowing the Shiraz fruit to gush forth and pleasure the palate.

The intensity of the Gemtree Shiraz is part and parcel of its McLaren Vale terroir; and indeed, for many years the stellar grapes from this 330 acre estate went into cuvées bottled by top brands like Rosemount. The transition from grower to producer started in 1994, when Melissa Buttery, daughter of founders Paul and Jill Buttery, joined the family business as a viticulturist, followed a few years later by Melissa’s boyfriend-turned-husband, Mike Brown, who happened to be an accomplished winemaker.

Always the keen environmentalist, it was Melissa who turned Gemtree towards organic and biodynamic viticulture. Not stopping there, in 1998 she initiated Gemtree Wetlands: taking twenty-five acres in the middle of the property and establishing it as a wetlands preserve in joint venture partnership with the nonprofit group, Greening Australia (South Australia). This arduous, long term project has involved the planting of some 20,000 native trees and shrubs, and the building of six interlinking dams to help regenerate the region and establish a haven for native frogs, birds and animals, while contributing to the self-sustaining aspects of the vineyard.

Korean Style Barbecued Shortribs (Kalbi)

The biggest plus about a good, sturdy, juicy Shiraz is that its dense fruitiness always lends itself to Asian style barbecued meats like no other wine can. A perfect match every time, for instance, is the Korean style of barbecued beef shortribs known as kalbi. In Hawai’i, where I grew up, no self-respecting hibachi homeboy or local take-out joint can make it without mastering the art of Korean barbecue. The good news is that it’s not that difficult, it can be done anywhere, and the fact that this toothsome cut of beef, in moderately sweetened, garlic and sesame seasoned, soy sauce based marinades, tastes absolutely delicious with a lusciously spiced Shiraz.

Everyone in the Islands has his/her own variation (or “secrets”) of kalbi, but here is a good, basic recipe to start with:

3 lbs. English cut (thick) beef shortribs, scored

Marinade:
½ cup soy sauce
¼ cup sesame oil
¼ cup sugar
2 cloves garlic, minced
¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. black pepper
3 stalks green onions, minced
2 tsp. toasted sesame seeds

Combine marinade ingredients and pour over shortribs in zip-lock plastic bag (or in shallow Pyrex sealed with plastic wrap); marinate overnight in refrigerator. Broil (or grill) 8-10 minutes on each side until desired doneness.

Organic wine match of the day: Maysara Jamsheed Pinot Noir & Szechuan baby back ribs

When Oregon’s “Papa Pinot,” the recently departed David Lett of Eyrie Vineyards, planted his first vineyard in 1965, he settled in the Dundee Hills just south, towards west, of Portland, where deep, red clay soils on bedrocks of basalt have yielded the type of gentle yet generous, red berryish, fruit driven red wines that have come epitomize Willamette Valley Pinot Noir.

During the past twenty-five years, a number of other little pockets of Willamette Valley have been successfully planted by winemakers, five of which have been identified as sufficiently unique to merit their own official AVA (American Viticultural Region) designation. Among those “other” regions: the McMinnville AVA, located a good twenty miles southwest of the Dundee Hills AVA; closer to the Pacific’s maritime influence, and tucked into coastal mountain hillsides where slightly dryer weather and brighter days are offset by cooler nights and significantly shallower soils than that of Dundee.

From this emerging AVA, McMinnville’s 2006 Maysara Jamsheed Pinot Noir (about $27) stands out as a slightly “different” style of Willamette Valley Pinot Noir: more aggressive, slightly steelier in acid, and more structured in terms of tannin and glycerol than the pretty, fruit driven Dundee Hills wines of old. Yet this is still a cold climate Oregonian, and so the Maysara shares the plump, juicy, wild berry traits of the finest Willamette Valley Pinot Noirs. The meager soils, however, also yield a more pronounced anise and clove-like spiciness in the nose; in the '06, becoming more pepperminty and green leafy/herbal on the palate, intertwined with muscular tannins and almost sweet, marionberry jam-like flavors.

While the Maysara’s intensity is a direct reflection of McMinnville’s terroir, another major factor is the low-impact winemaking and biodynamic viticulture practiced with great devotion by Maysara proprietor, Moe Momtazi (Moe's daughter, winemaker Tahmiene Momtazi, pictured right). It was, in fact, the attraction of staking out a somewhat remote, 532 acre, abandoned wheat farm, free from chemicals for at least seven years, that first attracted Momtazi to the Maysara site in 1997. Explaining why he opted for the holistic approach of biodynamics on the Maysara Web site, Momtazi says that “while organics share the biological agriculture background and methods, it stops short of the dynamic processes, or life force of the farm… biodynamics recognizes and responds to the life force of the living farm, considering the farm a living organism.” Hence, the increased sense of place you can’t help but taste in a Maysara.

Maybe it goes back to when I was a kid and loved to crash my O-gauge Lionel train through redwood Lincoln Log walls, but what I like to do with Pinot Noirs like the Maysara, with its collision of wild, zesty flavors, is match it with Asian or fusion styles of dishes with their own collisions of sensations; like the following reworking of Chef Roy Yamaguchi’s Szechuan style baby back ribs. Don’t sweat the hoisin and chili paste – the hot, vinegary, sweet spices actually accentuate the fruit and star anise-like spiciness of the Maysara, and there is plenty enough tannin in the wine to absorb the fattiness of the ribs and the char from the grill. Have fun…

4½ lbs. baby back ribs (3 slabs)
2 cups hoisin sauce
2 tbsp. minced garlic
3 tbsp. minced ginger
2 tbsp. Sriracha (Thai chili sauce; available in all Asian grocers)
½ cup honey

Cut rib slabs in half and place in a large pot of boiling water. Slow boil 90 minutes, or until tender (meat will shrink down from top of bone to at least half inch). Remove from water and let stand 10 minutes.

To make marinade, combine remaining ingredients and refrigerate.

Preheat oven to 450 degress. Brush ribs on both sides with marinade. Place on a rack on top of a cookie sheet in the oven. Bake 10 to 15 minutes, until shiny. Remove and cool. Cut into pieces and brush with more marinade. Grill on a hibachi or charcoal grill until hot. Serves six, and is particularly great with fresh, steaming white rice!

Organic Wine Match of the Day: Tandem Porter-Bass Chardonnay

Chard, schmard… if you think all California Chardonnays taste like Kendall-Jackson’s, you’re missing out on many of the world’s greatest wines, my friend. There’s a reason why, for instance, those French judges rated Chateau Montelena’s Chardonnay better than the finest of France way back in 1976, re the in/famous Judgement of Paris (recently part-fictionalized in the film, Bottle Shock): simply put, the Chardonnay grape excels in Californian terroirs.

California vintners have advanced viticultural and oenological light years since 1976. They’ve gone so far, so fast, in fact, that the best of them today are back to where the grape started: with more authentic clones, more sustainable vineyards in cooler climates, and barrel fermenting as naturally as possible in ways pretty much like what’s been done in France for centuries.

Winemakers like Greg La Follette of Tandem Winery are highly regarded among other California winemakers precisely because he takes so many “natural” risks: starting with pristinely grown fruit, and doing as little to it as possible to extract levels of viscosity, muscle, and terroir related minerality many connoisseurs thought possible only in Burgundy where the grape originated.

Behold, the 2005 Tandem Porter-Bass Chardonnay from a mature site (planted over 100 years ago) in the coldest, far western section California’s Russian River Valley, meticulously tilled by both organic and biodynamic standards to yield wines like this: unusually floral (like white ginger and citrus blossoms) fragrances mingling with aromas of wet stones, crème brûlée, honeyed almonds and baking brioche; the creamy, mineral and citrus flavors riding on a tart edged, silken body that is neither light nor heavy, but dense, steely, sinewy in texture.

In other words, absolutely nothing resembling the soft, fluffy, weighty style of wine associated with 99% of other California Chardonnays. Okay, Tandem Chardonnays are rare and pricey ($35-$40), but it gives me an excuse to talk about how Chardonnays like this (producers such as Littorai, Au Bon Climat, Keller and DuhNah make similar Burgundian style wines) match food like nobody’s business. In French sommelier might recommend sweetbreads or chicken like Bocuse’s poulet de bresse or à l’estragon (Julia Child has the best recipe for the latter, the whole chicken rubbed inside and out with butter and stuffed with tarragon), but what about us American philistines?

The idea behind sweetbreads or roasted chicken is to give an oaky, full alcohol Chardonnay a white meat fatty or oily enough to grip. Herbs like tarragon and dill amplify the sweet, creamy notes of well oaked Chardonnays, and sage helps define both fruit and stony qualities of the grape itself. But the one recipe I’ve always found to work best with more crisply acidic Chardonnays from both France and California is Marcella Hazan’s classic Roasted Chicken with Lemon – simple, satisfying!

New Treats for the Organic Wine Lover

By most accounts, certified organic foods now make up about 5% of supermarket sales, and are an $18 billion industry. But why drink organic wines? Like consumers, wine growers have been moving towards organic farming for over a decade for health and environmental concerns, and because it makes sense to farm sustainably for the benefit of future generations and vineyard productivity.

Notwithstanding the somewhat misguided, prevalent consumer view that organic as well as biodynamic wines represent “fringe” elements of the wine production industry, the number of organic producers around the world continues to grow. Why? For the same reasons why all-time classics like Domaine Tempier in Bandol, Zind-Humbrecht in Alsace, Beaucastel in the Rhône, Mas de Daumas Gassac in the Languedoc, and Domaine del la Romanée-Conti in Burgundy have long followed these practices: because it produces better wine in both the short term and the long.

So if anything, producers like Paul Dolan and Ceàgo in Mendocino, Frog’s Leap and Rubicon Estate in Napa Valley, Badia a Coltibuono and Lageder in Italy, and Capcanes in Spain are not just following suit, they are simply catching up with what some of the great producers of the world have known all along. And it’s a good thing.

For a more complete description of organic, biodynamic and vegan delineations, see my earlier post, Organic Wines You Can Seek Your Teeth Into. Some of my most recent “finds”:

WHITES

2006 Del Bondio, Oakville Chardonnay (Napa Valley, California; organic grapes) – If you like organics yet prefer the classically broad, honeyed, toasty oaked, almost tropical fruit style of California Chardonnay, this one has all of that; with, however, a pleasingly tart, zesty edge quite atypical for mid-Napa style Chardonnay

2008 Pircas Negras, Torrontés (Argentina; organic grapes, vegan) – Luscious white made from a grape originally indigenous to Galicia in Spain; floral, tropical fragrances suggesting papaya and avocado; off-dry (i.e. whisper of sweetness) on the palate, with slightly lemony, zesty qualities giving fresh, easy sensations. (Note: “vegan” wines are those filtered or fined without the use of animal products like egg whites, casein, gelatin and isinglass).

2007 Alois Lageder, Benefizium Porer Pinot Grigio (Alto-Adige, Italy; biodynamic) – Very minerally, crisp edged, linear and refined, delicate Alpine style (as opposed to soft, simple, fruity) of the grape; fleshed out on the palate with sweet pear and pippin apple qualities, finishing smooth, stony dry, almost Chablis-like.

2006 Jean-Baptiste Adam, Riesling Reserve (Alsace, France; biodynamic) – An initial touch of residual sugar underlines this chubby, juicy, medium-full, glycerol textured bottling, rich in floral, peachy fruitiness tinged with the fusel qualities of the grape; yet the balance is very fine and buoyant, as the wine finishes clean, fresh, and very nearly dry.

2006 Francois Chidaine, Montlouis Clos du Breuil (Loire River, France; organic grapes) – Whites from Montlouis are made completely from the Chenin Blanc grape, and are classically tart and dry as rocks. This bottling follows the script, before veering off by exuding a supple, succulent, melony fruitiness of thick, densely textured qualities suggesting a countrified, wildflower honey, effectively rounding out the wine’s green apple acidity and minerality.

biodynamic pyramid

REDS

2005 Quivira, Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel (California; biodynamic) – Classic, zesty Sonoma style – pungent, sweetly ripened, jammy black cherry/red berry aromas and flavors – packaged in a snappy, silky, medium-full (closer to medium) body.

2006 Ceàgo, Redwood Valley Camp Masuit Merlot (California; biodynamic) – Classic red berry/black cherry aroma with floral, violet-like perfume; round, fleshy, very polished texture to luscious berry flavors, buoyed by soft tannins.

2006 Cooper Mountain, Reserve Pinot Noir (Willamette Valley, Oregon; biodynamic) – Pretty, feminine nose of sweet raspberry leaf tea with pepperminty nuances; soft, silky, refined qualities on the palate -- very much the delicate "Oregonian" style of the grape once always expected out of Willamette Valley, but seen less and less in these days of full extraction wines -- that are both aesthetically satisfying, and satisfyingly easy to consume. Nice.

2006 Maysara, Jamsheed Pinot Noir (Oregon; biodynamic) – Plump, juicy, wild berry aroma with autumnal spice nuances; the spiciness becoming more pepperminty and green leafy/herbal on the palate, intertwined with rounded berry flavors, medium tannins, and zippy acidity giving a lively, medium-full palate feel.

2005 Höpler, Pinot Noir (Burgenland, Austria; biodynamic) – Spring flower fresh, floral and perfumed; in fact, very fine, gentle, rather feminine in weight (light-medium bodied), the pure red berry flavors extending seamlessly across the palate.

2004 Lageder, Krafuss Pinot Noir (Alto Adige, Italy; biodynamic) – Very serious stuff; showing a Pinot nose of floral strawberry/wild berry fragrance complimented by smoky oak and burnt leafy nuances; rounded, luscious, juicy entry in the mouth, becoming zesty with acidity in the middle, the smoky, spiced berry sensations ringing all the way through a long, lively finish.

2007 Gemtree, Tadpole Shiraz (McLaren Vale, Australia; organic/uncertified biodynamic) – There aren’t a lot of organic wines coming out of Australia, and this one offers all the black, deep, bouncy, lush fruitiness Shiraz lovers look for in their reds; an intense nose, suggesting raspberry liqueur, with a vanillin oak veneer; a soft medium-full body underlined by easy tannins, allowing the Shiraz fruit to pleasure the palate.

2007 espelt, Sauló (Emporado, Spain; organic grapes) – Good and ripe, aromatic blend of Garnacha (60%) and Cariñena, yet solid with slightly drying tannins lending a dense, muscular, medium body presence, the juicy, cassis-like flavors pushing through at the end.

2005 Capcanes, Old Vines Mas Donis Barrica (Montsant, Spain; organic grapes) – A blend of Garnacha (85%) and Syrah, exuding ripe bing cherry fruitiness, with a backdrop of smoky/flinty, minerally/stony, and even faintly gamey qualities; medium-full body filled by smoothly rounded tannins, the earthy fruit qualities pushing through a bracing finish.

2007 Cantine Barbera, Nero d’Avola (Sicilia, Italy; biodynamic) – The underappreciated Nero d’Avola grape yields black colored, yet amazingly soft and lush styles of red wine, and Cantine Barbera’s is choice – teeming with luscious, sweetly aromatic black cherry aromas, following through on the palate in an easy, medium body rounded by ripe tannins and the pure, lively, persistent qualities of the grape.

2005 Badia a Coltibuono, Chianti Classico Riserva (Toscana, Italy; organic grapes) – A pure, nearly flawless expression of Chianti and the Sangiovese grape, beginning with a lush, red berry nose with undertones of forest floor twigs and rose petal potpourri; firm yet silky, densely concentrated yet elegantly composed on the palate, finishing long, almost sweet in intensity.

2005 Clos Roche Blanche, Cabernet Touraine (Loire River, France; organic grapes) – Pure, soft and refined Cabernet Franc based red, defined by an earthy raspberryish nose tinged with cedary wood, the mildest gaminess and a green leafy mintiness; smooth light-medium body unimpeded by tannin or weight, the dusty raspberry flavors lingering on the palate.

SWEET IMPORTED RED

2003 Capcanes, Pansal del Calàs (Montsant, Spain; organic grapes) – While pretty much a rarity, retailing for around $33 (500 ml.), this is such a remarkably unique dessert style wine – big and sweet like Port, but not nearly as heavy or spiritous – that it begs attention. A full bodied (17% alcohol) blend of Garnacha (around 70%) and Cariñena, yet incredibly smooth and well balanced: deep ruby color followed by sweet raspberry/cherry aromas with the slightest touch of rancio (a complimentary oxidation); juicy, succulent, lusciously sweet flavors pushed up by lively acidity, giving flavors of nearly endless exhilaration, as fresh and immediate as sucking directly from the fruit off the vine.

It's 3 AM, Are Restaurant Wine Lists Answering the Call?

It’s 3:00 AM in the restaurant world. The economy is rattling our windows, costs are obliterating margins, and last year’s projections seem as hopeful as a bride without a first date. The first thing every savvy restaurateur does under these circumstances is not just batten down the hatches, rail in expenses, get focused on advertising and more aggressive with promotions, but also tighten up menus and wine lists.

Of course, everyone knows what a wine list is – the list of wines you can order in a restaurant. Yeah, right. Like “service” is someone taking your order without first saying hello, without telling you the specials or giving intelligent answers, slapping your dishes on the table in no particular order, forgetting to refill your water or to offer coffee, and then taking your money without saying thank you or goodbye.

What do consumers actually look for in a wine list? Seventeen years ago the nation’s most popular wine magazine actually put that question to its own readers – all predominantly strong wine and food lovers – in a multi-question poll. The results of three of those queries:

• 70% of those polled agreed that the “optimum length” of the ideal wine list should be only 20 to 50 selections. So why do many of us in the business still believe in the-bigger-the-better approach to wine lists?

• Responding to the question, “how useful is wine list information in choosing wine?” – 70% of this magazine’s readers described wine lists in the U.S. as “poor” or “fair.” Zero votes for “excellent,” and 9% voting for “good.” Ergo: even knowledgeable wine lovers believe that restaurant wine lists are just not informative enough.

• To the question, “how helpful are lists in matching food and wine?” – 77% rated wine lists as “poor” (mostly) or “fair.” With the rise of exponentially more food consciousness and culinary sophistication during the past seventeen years, do you think consumers today care less about wine and food matching than they did before? Not a chance.

Have things changed much since 1991? I guess. We are seeing more wine lists that address the issue of being more informative by adding descriptions and tidbits of information. We are also seeing a few wine lists that suggest food matches, and even some food menus that suggest wines for specific dishes.

But by and large, the restaurant industry is still generally afflicted by the notion that big wine lists (that is, those with anywhere from 200 to over 2000 selections) are better than small wine lists; whereas the vast majority of consumers probably aren’t impressed by that at all. All they are calling for is a wine list that makes more sense than hieroglyphics, that is more entertaining than a telephone book, and that has something to do with the dishes they are about to eat.

If you're a restaurateur, does your wine list fit the bill? Let’s go through a check-list of some hard questions you'll need to ask yourself in these recessionary times:

1. If your wine list is “big” (say, over 200 selections), is it big for a reason – like giving your guests multiple options of wines that you know taste magnificent with specific dishes on your menu? Or is it big for reasons that your average guests really don’t care about – like, because you enjoy tasting and buying lots of wine, or because you’ve read somewhere how good this or that wine is and what score it’s been given?

2. Do your selections actually differentiate you from your competition in the eyes of your guests, or are you going after the exact same wines found in every other restaurant, grocery or retail store down the street?

3. Like “Charlie the Tuna” in those old commercials, are you selecting wines that represent “good taste” or that actually “taste good?” That is, are your wines chosen to give you the highest percentage chance hearing your guests go, “Wow, that’s the best wine I’ve ever had!” Or are they chosen just to make you look good?

4. Are you writing descriptions for each (not just a few!) selection on your wine list to help your guests make decisions, and also to perk their interest, senses, and ultimately their thirst?

5. When you write your descriptions, are you being helpful by giving the information that guests actually need (i.e. is it dry or sweet; very sweet or slightly sweet; light or heavy; lots of oak, subtle in oak, or pure and fruity...?); or are you just providing long, half-hallucinatory, grocery list-like descriptions cribbed off distributors’ sales sheets (i.e. “grapefruit and apple with hints of leafy herbs, peaches and cream, and crispy, pan fried passionfruit”).

6. In your descriptions, are you throwing in other interesting tidbits to stimulate guest interest; like the name of the winemaker (if it’s a prestigious winemaker), the wine’s growing region, the significance of the growing region, or one or two dishes that taste absolutely wonderful with that wine?

7. In your wine list categories, are you being creative by dividing them up by taste (like “dry, full bodied whites” as opposed to “light, slightly sweet whites”), by food suggestions (“crisp, dry whites for oysters and shellfish,” or “big, full bodied reds for steaks”), by special interest (“organic & biodynamic whites,” “exotically scented European whites,” or “wild, wacky Southern Hemisphere reds”), or any which way you can to make your list uniquely interesting?

8. Are you still offering just a measley five or ten selections (or less than 10%, 20% of your selections) of wines by the glass despite the fact that in most restaurants today over 50% of wine sales are by the glass?

9. If you’ve found some truly unique and delicious wines that go great with some of your dishes, are offering them by the glass, or do you expect your guests to take giant leaps of faith and buy full bottles just on your say-so?

10. If you’ve found numerous truly unique and delicious wines, are you giving your guests the opportunity to have fun with them – like, the chance of tasting two or three next to each other with one dish, or at a bar just out of curiosity – by offering them by the glass in 2 or 3 ounce portions on top of 5 or 6 ounce “full” portions?

11. Are you tasting your staff on a regular basis (at least once a week) on all the new and exciting wines you’ve found in mandatory meetings in order to make sure every selection on your list counts (and also to make sure your hard work as a hunter of uniquely fine wines isn’t for nought)?

12. Are you testing your staff on a regular basis (at least once a month) to make sure they’re awake and taking notes during the wine meetings?

13. Do you query your staff – and even taste samples of prospective wines with them – to find out what your guests are really saying about the wines on your list; in order to not only make intelligent decisions but also to garner the maximum support of the people who are actually doing the selling and serving?

14. Are you standing pat, or are you continuously growing to keep up with the increasingly sophisticated tastes of your guests and the evolution of your menu; in order to keep yourself and your staff on your toes, and loving what you do?

14. Above all, are you bringing back the fun of wine to your guests, and taking pains not to insult their intelligence or underestimate their thirst for new and exciting wine experiences?

So how is your wine list answering the call as a recession buster? Or shall I say… ring, ring!

Marc Kreydenweiss Talks About Biodynamics for Future Generations

Stunningly lush and compelling film by Wilson Daniels on the reasons for biodynamic grapegrowing:


Domaine Marc Kreydenweiss: Close to Home from Wilson Daniels on Vimeo.

California's Cabernet Franc Master

Now is the time for all good men (and women) to come to sensible assessments of Cabernet Franc. Cabernet Franc? You mean that that green, underripe grape?

Hey, look at it this way: Run-of-the-mill Cabernet Sauvignon is usually about as pleasurable as sandpaper. Average quality Sauvignon Blanc tastes either like asparagus or cat pee. Low-level Pinot Noir can be pret-ty thin, and don’t even get me started on the dreary droves of Merlot and Chardonnay still flooding our markets.

My point: average quality Cabernet Franc (like cold year Chinons, Bourgueils and Saumer Champignys) can indeed be light, herbaceous, a little tart. But in good years, they can be glorious, even lofty: redolent of floral, cassis, and dusty, raspberryish fruit; dense and multi-textured on the palate.

From the gastronomic perspective, we’ve always had a field day with good Cabernet Franc; with its aromatic quality expressively similar to Cabernet Sauvignon (Cabernet Franc making up half of Cabernet Sauvignon’s clonal lineage), couched in a markedly softer tannin and lower weight structure. In other words: a red wine with the flavor interest of Cabernet Sauvignon, but without the big, hard qualities that relegate Cabernet Sauvignon’s food spectrum pretty much to fatty red meats. As with Pinot Noir -- and softer styles of Zinfandel and Tempranillo -- you can enjoy Cabernet Franc with any red meat plus the entire range of “other” white meats cooked in any fashion. Throw in some grilled asparagus, roasted peppers, or sautéed haricots with herby butter sauces, and you’ve got another match “made in heaven.”

A fellow winetwo.netter recently forwarded me a New York Times story (A Great Year Lifts an Unsung Region) that lists a number of Chinons from the exceptionally lush and ripe 2005 vintage now out on the market. Indeed, upper level ‘05s like Charles Joguet’s Chinon Clos de la Dioterie are not just exponentially more intense, they are destined for Bordeaux-like longevity (ten, twenty year wines).

But enough about the French. There are a number of accomplished Cabernet Franc producers in California; and right now, the acknowledged master of the grape is undoubtedly John Skupny of Lang & Reed (his brand named after his two sons).

In early September I spent a morning with Skupny which began with a walk through the Sugar Loaf Vineyard, located at the southeast point of Napa Valley just off Silverado Trail. Skupny is excited about this growth, which will form the base of his reserve quality Cabernet Franc, bottled as Premier Étage, in 2007 and 2008. Like the Madrigal Vineyard located further up the valley near Larkmead Lane, which formed the heart of Premier Étage in the ‘96 to ’06 vintages, the schist crusted Sugar Loaf (a hillside with almost no clay loam) is an exceptionally well drained, low vigor site: the key factor minimizing excess canopy and cropping, leading to more varietal perfume and minimal herbaceousness in resulting wines.

Indeed, a barrel sampling of the ’07 Sugar Loaf showed a wine of enormous, almost syrupy thick, framboise-like raspberry concentration, plus a rounded girth supported by muscular tannin. Serious stuff.

But enough heavy breathing. What is in or coming down the pipe as we speak? My notes on Lang & Reed’s current and upcoming releases:

2006 Lang & Reed, North Coast Cabernet Franc – Skupny’s North Coast cuvées (100% Cabernet Franc) are vinified for unabashedly immediate accessibility, and are sourced primarily (90%) from higher elevation (up to 2,000 feet) vineyards sitting on sparse red soils. The nose is perfumey – red berry laced with savory – with mild, herbal, green leafy distinctions. On the palate, medium-full and soft and silky, the berry qualities lingering with notes of sun dried cherry and pungent kitchen herbs.

2007 Lang & Reed, North Coast Cabernet Franc – The ’07 is riper, richer, rounder, juicier, and meatier textured than the ’06, while also expressing a slight “corruption” (Skupny’s word) of Brettanomyces, manifesting itself as more like roasted, gamey meat as opposed to barnyard. If you enjoy such natural, earthy notes (and I’d surmise that lovers of Loire River grown Cabernet Franc would), shout hallelujah and pass the biscuits. The fruit quality is plummy, carrying good weight, mixed in with red berries; and typical of Skupny’s North Coast bottlings, soft and round in tannin, and eminently quaffable.

2003 Lang & Reed, Napa Valley Premier Étage Cabernet Franc – You learn something everyday; and that morning it was the translation of premier étage: “first floor,” which in France is on what we consider the second floor. Hence, Lang & Reed’s next-level-up cuvée, sourced from lower yielding vineyards, to which Skupny applies partial whole berry fermentation and varying lengths of post-fermentation maceration to dial up color, aroma and volume. The ’03 is extraordinary: super-plush raspberry fruit, coated in velvet, draped across a cedary oak backdrop. Tannins are notably thick and sculpted, but layered well beneath the almost chocolaty sweet berry flavors. Skupny also attributes some of the increased pigmentation and viscosity of the ’03 to the addition of 2% Petit Verdot; and if you’ve favored earlier vintages of Premier Étage, you may be pleased to know that the ’03 represents an evolving departure from new oak (cooperage is entirely one to two year old barrels, mixing softer, sweeter Burgundian wood with Bordelaise).

2004 Lang & Reed, Napa Valley Premier Étage Cabernet Franc - The relatively tight drinking quality of the ’04 is precisely the reason why Skupny holds back his reserves a heck of a lot longer than even Cabernet Sauvignon producers. While less effusive than in the ’03, the nose is flowery and perfumed (raspberry and violet); medium-full to full on the palate, showing a densely packed, piquant berry profile fused with toasted oak, finishing with briary twists of tobacco and tannin. Excellent now, but undoubtedly finer drinking in another year.

2004 Lang & Reed, Napa Valley Right Bank - If you dig the dense yet scrumptuous qualities of Saint-Émilions like La Mondotte and Canon-la-Gaffelière, you'll flip over this, Skupny’s first ever Bordeaux style bottling. Napa Valley sourced Cabernet Franc (53%), Merlot (30%), Petit Verdot (9%), Cabernet Sauvignon (8%), yada yada... the important thing to know is that Skupny has crafted a blend that is so tender, so dense yet soft, succulent and unerringly balanced, all you can think is wow... this is what blending is all about. Aromas are of concentrated black cherry and blackcurrants, with minty/herby nuances at the center. Vintners talk about tannin management like politicians about cutting spending; but Skupny has truly gotten a handle on the tannin molecule: lots of it (nothing puny about this wine), yet perfectly round and seamless. With only 170 cases made, get it while it’s hot!

Extreme Winemaking by Tandem's Greg La Follette

When it comes to winemaking, you can’t be an extremist without having two feet set firmly in the ground; or terroir, to use the all encompassing wine word for ecosystem specification.

Greg La Follette is cut from the same cloth as other extreme winemakers whose work is measured not only by what they put in the bottle, but also by the waves they generate while doing it. In France, I think of Lucien Peyraud, André Ostertag and the recently departed Didier Dagueneau as consummate extremists; casting shadows over even their more respected peers with their bold winemaking tactics.

The modern era of California winemaking was pushed along – willingly, and at times unwillingly – by the fighting spirit of Martin Ray, the prescience of Joseph Swan, and the energy of André Tchelistcheff (under whom La Follette studied at Beaulieu); and in recent years, by oft-times prickly icons like Randall Grahm, Jim Clendenen, David Ramey, and Manfred Krankl.

There are many more, of course, of varying degrees in all parts of the wine world. The common thread describing all these vintners making their living at the edge: contrarian methodology conducted on the basis of what’s worked in the past, but lost in the present mostly due to fear factors.

For La Follette – who arrived to the point he’s at today after somewhat more mainstream successes at Hartford Court and Flowers – it’s about taking pristine raw material from largely cold climate sources (Sonoma Coast, Carneros, Russian River Valley, Mendocino, and north facing slopes of Sonoma Mountain), and applying his self-styled “Euro-centric” instincts to risk-taking measures that retain (rather than “extract”) every last drop of flavor and texture a grape can give. In a story in Wines & Vines, for instance, La Follette talks about the science of fermentation he learned at Davis; particularly what happens when yeasts are stressed (consequentially, assorted sulfides and mercaptans; i.e. skunk, rubber tire, cooked cabbage, etc.): “I thought, cool! I gotta try that.