Guild of Sommeliers

Ampelography: The Art of Vine Identification

GuildSomm Admin — Wed, 12 Oct 2016 11:20:00 GMT

By Tina Caputo

Thanks to DNA testing, anyone can identify a mysterious vine simply by sending a sample off to the lab. But for Virginia-based vineyard consultant Lucie Morton, a world-renowned ampelographer, it’s still crucial to know how to distinguish vines the old-fashioned way: by sight and touch.

It took Morton years to learn ampelography, a skill that few viticulturists in today’s high-tech world still work to master. “It’s like speaking a new language: practice makes perfect,” she says. “Ampelography is really hard, and it takes a trained eye. I would compare it to what a sommelier goes through in identifying wines blind. It takes interest, practice, focus. You build on your knowledge, just like you do with wine tasting, layering your experiences.”

With a name that comes from the Greek ampelos for vine and graphe for description, ampelography was not widely practiced until the second half of the 19th century, when parasites and vine diseases introduced from America began wiping out European vineyards. The study of cultivars resistant to phylloxera and other vine-destroyers became hugely important in replanting the world’s vineyards, and ampelography played a role in identifying grape varieties and rootstocks.

It wasn’t until 1944 that Pierre Galet, viticulture chair at the École Nationale Supérieure Agronomique de Montpellier, created the first dichotomous key for rootstocks cultivated in France. When he became Montpellier’s chief of viticultural control, Galet began teaching others how to identify rootstocks. In 1952, he published the definitive book Précis d’ampélographie pratique, a systematic guide to identifying grape vines based on their growing tips, leaves, and other physical traits.

An English Translation

There would be no equivalent guide in English until 1979, when Morton translated and adapted the fourth edition of Galet’s book, leaving out non-essential varieties and adding new sections for grapes grown in the United States and Canada. She called it A Practical Ampelography.

Morton was not only a translator but also Galet’s graduate student and protégé. She was introduced to ampelography during her first field trip as a new student at Montpellier. She ended up in a car with Galet, unaware of his history or expertise. While driving to the research station in southern France, he said something that caught her attention. “He said, ‘Voila, Lucie, there is a fellow American.’ I looked at the road and I didn’t see any people, so I asked him, ‘Where? All I see are wild grape vines.’”

Galet pointed out that the vines were Vitis rupestris, one of the first rootstocks to help the French with the phylloxera crisis. When Morton asked how he was able to identify the American rootstock while speeding down the highway, he told her about ampelography. “It just hit my imagination that the personality of a vine is in its leaf,” she says. “That its whole history, who it is, is right there.”

As a student in the international viticulture program at Montpellier, Morton trained with Galet, and her knowledge of ampelography grew. When she returned home to King George, Virginia, where she’d planted a three-acre vineyard on her family’s farm, she quickly understood the usefulness of ampelography.

“I had ordered 10 different grape varieties that I thought were French hybrids, but when I got home, it looked to me like I had about 15, and one of them I recognized as Zinfandel,” Morton recalls. “Back then, the nurseries would sell you who-knows-what. In my Seyval Blanc, I had three different red grapes—but thanks to Pierre and his book, I was able to figure that out.”

With encouragement from American wine writer and historian Leon Adams and support from fellow viticulturists, Morton, who was only 25 years old at the time, convinced Cornell University to publish a translation of Galet’s guide. It took her six months to write the first sample chapter, as she struggled to accurately translate the complicated vocabulary of ampelography.

Vine Anatomy

The most important thing to look at when trying to identify a grape vine is the growing tip, if there is one. “That’s the first thing I look for,” Morton explains. “Is it fuzzy? Is it hairless? Is it shiny? Is it covered in white cottony hair? The growing tip hairiness gets you somewhere as far as a starting place.”

Then, she observes the general leaf shape. “Does it have lobes or does it look like a shield? Does it have a lot of indentations or is it solid? Is the leaf thin or thick? French hybrids tend to have thinner leaves than vinifera.”

Third on the list of important attributes is the petiolar sinus, the empty space surrounding the stem of the leaf. Some sinuses are wide open, while others are so narrow they’re hardly noticeable. It’s possible to distinguish between Merlot, Cabernet Franc, and Cabernet Sauvignon simply by comparing the petiolar sinuses.

Other characteristics that distinguish grape leaves include the lobes and teeth. If the leaf were a hand, the lobes would be the fingers. Some leaves have prominent lobes; other leaves have none. The teeth are the serrations on the outside edge of the leaf. Some are jagged and sharp while others are rounded.

Together, these clues help the ampelographer discover a vine’s identity. For example, Cabernet Sauvignon is known for having a downy growing tip, with a deep rose-colored margin. The young leaves are also downy and have a reddish color. The lateral sinuses (a sinus is the space between two lobes) of the leaves have overlapping edges that give the impression of being cut out with a hole punch. Morton’s nickname for the Cabernet Sauvignon leaf is “the mask” or “the monkey face,” because when holding a leaf by its stem, with the tip pointing upward, the leaf looks like it has two eyes and mouth.

In contrast, Chardonnay has a shield-shaped leaf, with sawblade-like teeth and an open petiolar sinus bordered by "naked" veins. Its young shoots have red nodes, a particularly distinctive marker.

Ampelography also provides information about clonal variation. “With some varieties, like Cabernet Franc and Pinot Noir, clonal variations are really easy to see,” Morton comments. “They have a lot of what we call morphological differences, so there are a lot of different leaf shapes and cluster characteristics.”

Modern Applications

During the last decade or so, DNA marker technology (also known as DNA fingerprinting) has largely replaced traditional ampelography as a means of identifying grape vines. The process involves creating a DNA profile for the vine in question, using samples taken from young leaves or growing tips, then finding a match in a database of “voucher vines.” The Foundation Plant Services department at UC Davis has thousands of profiles in its database.

According to Dr. Carole Meredith, the grapevine geneticist who famously solved the mystery of Zinfandel’s origin, matching it to an identical Croatian variety, DNA testing has a couple of advantages over traditional ampelography. “DNA-based identification is objective,” says Dr. Meredith, who spent 22 years as a professor in the viticulture and enology department at UC Davis. “In traditional ampelography, the evaluation of some characteristics is subjective, and thus experts can and do differ.” Its other weakness, she says, is that the characteristics of some varieties vary by region and may not look identical, while DNA profiles are expressed as sets of numbers, which are easy to store and share.

Even so, Meredith believes there is a place for traditional ampelography in modern viticulture, explaining, “An expert ampelographer can walk through a mixed vineyard and identify the different varieties on the go, so traditional ampelography can give very quick answers.” DNA testing results can take up to three days, or longer.

Morton’s work as a vineyard consultant demonstrates this well. In one recent case, she visited a Syrah vineyard that included 15% white grapes. Rather than advising the owner to pull those vines, Morton identified the white variety and provided on-the-spot advice. “I was able to say, ‘That’s Muscat Blanc, and I think you should keep it because that will be very nice in your white blend.’ If I had found out that it was something like Roussanne, which doesn’t do well on the East Coast, I probably would have told them to pull it out.”

Her ampelography training also heightens her powers of observation. “You pick up on things,” Morton says. “You can tell if the vine had a frost or if there was herbicide drift—herbicide drift jumps right out at you because the leaves aren’t normal.”

Ampelographers in Training

While Morton’s book is now out of print, ampelography is still part of the viticulture program at UC Davis and Montpellier, as well as other academic institutions. While the course that includes ampelography is not required at UC Davis, many students opt to include it in their studies.

“It takes many years of practice to become proficient at ampelography, but all viticulturists and enologists greatly benefit from being aware of the leaf, cluster, and berry characteristics that distinguish varieties,” notes UC Davis viticulture professor Dr. Andy Walker, who teaches ampelography at the university. “When they finish the course, they can recognize 38 grape varieties, 14 rootstocks, and about 20 table grapes. My hope is that they know them well enough to help recognize mistakes and look for verification in books and through testing.”

Walker also sees ampelography as a way of getting students interested in grapes beyond Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay. “It’s a step toward expanding their interest in varieties other than the top five and will encourage adoption of more diversity as we begin to cope with a changing climate.”

Morton herself teaches ampelography workshops at the Piedmont Virginia Community College in Charlottesville, as well as at St. Supéry Estate Vineyards and Winery in Napa Valley. St. Supéry’s hands-on workshops, held twice each year, are attended by sommeliers, retail wine buyers, and other wine industry professionals. “Ampelography is not really a topic in any wine certification course, and it is a wonderful skill for wine professionals to have as they visit vineyards around the world,” says St. Supéry CEO Emma Swain. “It’s another pillar of knowledge.”

Ultimately, for Morton, it’s about getting closer to the vines. “You can look at all the books you want, but being there is a whole different thing,” she explains. “Ampelography makes an intimate connection to the vine. It’s like being introduced to the author of a book, and there’s something really personal about that. You’re going to the source.”

The Wines of Central Friuli

Admin User — Thu, 21 May 2015 03:26:00 GMT

An in-depth report by Daniel Bjugstad of Pizzeria Locale in Boulder, CO.

Friuli Venezia Giulia, the border region between Italy’s Veneto and the neighboring countries of Slovenia and Austria, has been divided amongst empires for nearly two thousand years. The Romans, Huns, Goths, Lombards, Venetians, French, Austrians, Italians and Yugoslavs have all laid claim to the region at some point in history, and each culture has left its mark. For this reason one cannot exactly describe Friulians as Italians—Italy is simply the current flag flying overhead. Trieste, Friuli’s capital city and province, wasn’t officially part of Italy until the Treaty of Osimo was ratified in 1977!

Italy and its predecessors have each impacted the development of wine culture in Friuli. The Republic of Venice deforested much of the western plain of Friuli (modern-day Friuli Grave DOC) and exploited local farms to fund wars in the 18th century, but the region prospered under Austria. Trieste became an important 19th-century Austrian port and vacation destination for the wealthy, and the city saw demand for quality local wines increase by leaps and bounds. There were delays to progress in the early 20th century, as the twin disasters of phylloxera and World War One set Friuli and its winemakers back decades. Turnaround occurred in the 1960s and 1970s when several young winemakers—namely Mario Schiopetto, Livio Felluga, and Josko Gravner—adopted then-modern German winemaking techniques like refrigerated stainless steel tanks, cultivated yeasts, and the pneumatic press. These new technologies allowed for clean, precise, fruity wines that resonated globally. International tastes and trends in the next decades continued to benefit Friuli. Pinot Grigio and Chardonnay, marked by low yields and new oak, found worldwide demand in the 1980s and 1990s. At the time their presence was ubiquitous, “rather like New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc is today,” in the words of wine writer Walter Speller.

Today's producers continue to shape Friuli’s identity. Some consider it the best white wine region in Italy, but Friuli’s wine culture is too diverse for blanket statements. Well-made red wines (and orange ones, too) are as much a part of Friuli’s modern identity as the whites for which it first became famous. Even more, its identity as Italian is tenuous: Friuli is more aligned with Austrian, German, and Slovenian traditions than those of its Italian neighbors.

Overview
Like all great Old World wine regions, Friuli has unique soil and climatic conditions coupled with the history, tradition, and necessary practices to fulfill the potential of its raw material. Wine-growing in Friuli is marked by the meeting of mountain and sea, rain and wind. From one side of Monte Quarin in Cormons, the glimmer of the Adriatic Sea is visible, while the other side reveals snowcapped Julian Alps. The warm, humid winds from the sea are balanced by the Alps’ dry, cool tramontana wind.

Friuli exists on the edge of the Mediterranean climate—it’s one of the most northern climes in Italy to grow olive trees, though they rarely ripen—but the most prestigious wine-growing occurs in Friuli's continental center, where summers are warm, springs threaten frost, fall is typically rainy, and vintage variation can be considerable.

Like all of Italy, Friuli possesses a glut of DOCs and DOCGs requiring study and experience to navigate. Some are less important for the sommelier. Friuli Grave DOC, for example, accounts for a large swath of flat, sandy land in central Friuli and accounts for nearly 52% of wine production in the entire region. There are quality-focused producers in Grave, but much of the region is devoted to bulk wines.

The neighboring Friuli Colli Orientali DOC (Colli Orientali) and Collio Goriziano DOC (Collio) are Friuli’s most recognizable and quality-driven regions, responsible for 15% and 11% of wine production, respectively. Both names derive from the Italian colline (hills), and their landscapes likewise turn hilly amidst the foothills of the Julian Alps. They share similar soils and climates, separated only by the tiny Judiro River, which once marked the border between the Austrian and Venetian Empires.

Ponca, Friuli’s signature soil for wine-growing, is found throughout Colli Orientali and Collio Goriziano (and over the border in Slovenia’s Brda region, where the locals call it opoka). Ponca is composed of marl and sandstone, and it contains marine fossils originating at the bottom of what is now the Adriatic Sea. This rock was brought to the surface by the same tectonic movement that created the Alps. Friuli’s premier wines today are the product of ponca soils, but there is a downside—it's prone to landslides, which can slough off entire sections of a vineyard in rainier years. Giampaolo Venica at Venica e Venica faced such distresses in 2014 as a large tract of his Ronco delle Mele washed down the hill. To prevent this, he plants apple trees to hold the soil together, which lend the vineyard its name: the “terrace of apples.” Similarly, Josko Gravner works for eight to ten years to prepare a vineyard for planting, installing elaborate systems of underground drainage pipes to prevent them from washing away.

So why do producers prize this difficult soil? It produces a wine unique to the region: powerfully textured, concentrated, typically high in alcohol, yet still balanced by cutting acidity. “High alcohol is inherent to Friuli,” says Christian Patat from Ronco del Gnemiz. He notes that it was easier to make balanced wines in the past, before the effects of climate change, but for winemakers to consistently produce quality wine in Friuli they must “ lean toward consistently higher alcohol.” To counter this, ponca soil’s high pH and cool temperature produces grapes that retain a high amount of malic acid. The forceful malic acid cuts through the concentration and extract and can balance the typically high-alcohol wines.

In the flatter plains to the west are alluvial sands that produce less chiseled wines. The Carso peninsula, near Trieste, sits on mere centimeters of iron-rich terra rossa over hard limestone. With its own history of winemaking, native grapes, climate and soil, Carso is completely different from the rest of Friuli. Its drastic, craggy land and exciting, mineral-laden wines deserve their own article!

Collio Goriziano DOC
Collio, on the (formerly) Austrian side of the Judiro, has a longer history of quality wine production than Colli Orientali. The Austrians held a high standard for wine historically, and in Collio in the 1960s Mario Schiopetto was among the first vanguard to modernize winemaking techniques. Many of Friuli’s most historic houses are located in Collio: Mario Schiopetto, Josko Gravner, and Villa Russiz—where, according to some accounts, Count Theodore Karl Leopold Anton de la Tour first brought French grapes to Friuli in the late 19th century—are all located here.

When compared to Colli Orientali, Collio wines typically possess more weight and extract. The regional difference is distinct enough that Livio Felluga bottles Sauvignon and Friulano from Collio to sell to the American market while his wines for the European market come from Colli Orientali. In 2013, his “American market” wine is marked by overt and fleshy fruit while the “European market” bottling is greener and more herbaceous.

Collio wines can be varietally labeled or a blend of multiple grapes. For white wines, the most important grapes are Friulano, Malvasia Istriana, Ribolla Gialla, Chardonnay, Sauvignon, Pinot Grigio and Pinot Bianco. Red wines come from Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Nero and Merlot. The region’s name implies a hilly terrain, and grapes must be grown at a minimum of 85 meters above sea level.

Within Collio there are eleven communes. Kristian Keber of Edi Keber in Cormons is a true spokesman for the wines of Collio, and he groups the communes into three distinct (if unofficial) subzones:

Oslavia: Oslavia and the neighboring San Floriano del Collio are the Collio’s easternmost communes, where vineyards sit at the appellation’s highest elevations, about 180 meters above sea level. This is also the sunniest part of Collio, impacted by dry winds from the Adriatic and Slovenia. As a result, harvests are typically later than other areas in the DOC. Oslavia’s signature grape is Ribolla Gialla.

Cormons: Where the plains meet the foothills lie the communes of Brazzano, Cormons, Plessiva, Pradis, and Carpiva: the lowest and warmest areas in the Collio. Cormons’ defining geographical characteristic is Monte Quarin, one of Collio’s first hills, which rises to 275 meters and divides vineyards and climate into northern and southern sectors. The south side is warmed by Adriatic winds and the north side is cooled by Tramontana winds. Kristian Keber, who harvests Malvasia from vineyards on both sides of the hill, notes that grapes from the south side typically reach an additional degree of potential alcohol. The lower elevations in Cormons contain alluvial, “fatter” soils with more clay; these soils are best suited to Friulano and Pinot Bianco.

Dolegna: With Slovenia to the east, the Colli Orientali to the west and the Alps to the north, Dolegna is the coolest and wettest of the Collio subzones. Elevation ranges from 50 to 90 meters, yet it is closest in proximity to the mountains, swept by the tramontana wind. The region is surrounded by forests, and its cool, wet climate is best suited to aromatic white grapes like Sauvignon. Giampaolo Venica’s Sauvignon is a singular expression of the grape, showing weight and body countered by an exotic primacy of fruit. It exists in its own world, leaning neither toward France or New Zealand—it never tries to be anything but Friulian.

Map courtesy of La Castellada

Ribolla Gialla in Oslavia
Ribolla Gialla (“yellow Ribolla,” with no genetic relation to Ribolla Verde) is a grape native to Collio and Slovenia’s Brda. In Slovenia the grape is called Rebula. A wine called Rabola or Rabiola appears in texts from the 13th century, but only after phylloxera did a specific Ribolla Gialla grape appear.

As a wine Ribolla Gialla can be cruelly tart with mild flavors of white flowers and salt. These wines are typically forgettable and innocuous—unless they are made in dramatic places. The grape needs poor, rocky soils to curb its vigor, so it must be planted on hilltops. It also needs copious sunlight and a long growing season to develop real flavors. These specific needs make Oslavia the greatest region in Friuli for Ribolla Gialla. Its high elevation and dry climate delay harvests until October, and growers typically harvest Ribolla Gialla after the region’s red grapes.

Autumn rains in Friuli can cause rot, especially for late-harvested Ribolla Gialla. Botrytis cinerea can take hold, but many actually choose to work with the botrytized grapes. The less-benign Peronospora requires greater work in the vineyard. Top producers often employ a vine-training system called Albarello Modificato. Two cordons, three canes, and one bud per cane allow growers to separate the grape bunches, providing even maturation, air flow, and defense against mold.

Despite these challenges, the people here have a great fondness for the grape. For Stefano Bensa at La Castellada, Ribolla Gialla is a “flag for Osalvia.” And Stanko Radikon inherited his father’s estate on the condition that he keep the Ribolla Gialla. “They are the best grapes we have,” confirms his son, Saša. Josko Gravner went so far as to discontinue his flagship wine (“Breg,” a blend of Chardonnay, Riesling, Sauvignon, and Pinot Grigio ) to focus solely on Ribolla Gialla.

Vini Macerati
This regional pride for Ribolla Gialla may have fueled Oslavia’s production of vini macerati—skin-macerated white wines. In the US, these wines ignited sensation-turned-scorn in a few short years, but these “orange wines” today are very much entrenched in Oslavia’s wine identity.

The movement, as it has been called, began in the 1990s with Josko Gravner. Gravner has made some of the Collio’s most famous wines: starting in 1973, he fitted his cellars with stainless steel tanks and a pneumatic press, and the 1980s saw him expand his use of new oak barriques to produce famously long-lived, extracted Chardonnay. So what led the region’s benchmark producer to turn radical? Perhaps Gravner’s obsession with ancient methods of winemaking predicated his shift in style: he cites a 1st-century Roman agricultural writer, Columella, as a source for inspiration. Or perhaps a fateful trip to California in 1987 revealed how reliant modern winemaking had become on chemicals and artificial products? Either way, he began working toward older and more natural winemaking practices.

In 1996, hail hit Oslavia, destroying entire vineyards. With the few grapes harvested, Gravner conducted a series of experiments with skin maceration, levels of sulfites, and different yeasts. Gravner was so intrigued by the macerated wines that he converted his entire white wine production the following year. “Josko was always a leader for the growers here,” Saša Radikon affirms, recalling a meeting between Gravner and the other growers after the 1996 harvest. At that time, there were only four producers in Oslavia; after 1997 three of them—Gravner, Radikon, and La Castellada—began making macerated wines. For them, it offered a connection to the past and their land. In their grandfathers’ time, grapes would be harvested over several days and the berries would sit, uncovered in their cellars, until harvest concluded. The breakdown and subsequent maceration of the grapes made pressing much easier.

What once served a practical function is now a matter of aesthetics: macerated white wines allow Oslavia to uniquely create a native and noble wine. Stefano Bensa recalls his father Nicola’s ambition: to create “a white wine that can age as long as a red.” To accomplish that, the wine needed more preservative phenolic material and integrated oxidation. 

While the process differs slightly for each producer, the overall production techniques are similar: the grapes will be pressed (in good years, Gravner leaves the stems on) and placed into a vessel for fermentation. Juice, seeds, and skins will mingle while natural yeasts begin to ferment. Pigeage is common; Gravner punches down six to ten times a day and Radikon does punchdowns four times each day during fermentation. Gravner famously ferments in beeswax-lined Georgian clay amphorae and Radikon uses 3,000-liter Slavonian oak barrels. Bensa at La Castellada uses a mix of stainless steel tanks and oak barrels. Whatever the chosen vessel, it is left unfilled to allow oxidation during fermentation. After alcoholic fermentation, the barrels are topped off, the skins are left in contact, and malolactic fermentation occurs. The wines remain on the skins afterward for a desired period of time: around six months for Gravner, three months for Radikon, and anywhere from four days to two months for La Castellada. It's a decision that ultimately depends on the vintage and the quality of the grapes. Warmer, drier years generally produce thicker skins of higher quality and allow for longer maceration with more extract and phenolic material. There is a limit, however, as aromatics decrease with too much phenolic extraction. Once separated from their skins, the wines age for considerable time: seven years for Gravner (one in amphorae and six in Slavonian botte), five for Radikon (four in botte and one in bottle), and usually less at La Castellada.

Bottling is a defining moment for these wines as natural winemaking principles come into play. Radikon has generally not added sulfites since 2002; in his mind, if the tannins are ripe, they preserve the wines without sulfites. However, hard years (like 2014) have required small additions at bottling. “It’s not religion,” Saša explains. La Castellada and Gravner both add sulfur to their wines at bottling. For Gravner, the decision is a necessary evil; they do not filter their wines and feel obliged to provide a consistent product without bottle variation.

This winemaking style from a few producers in a small corner of Friuli has impacted the wine industry around the world. Experiments with skin-contact white wines continue in other parts of Italy, the Loire, and even California. But while sommeliers in the US became enamored-then-annoyed with the movement in a year or two, appreciation for these wines is still strong in other markets. Outside Friuli and Italy, both Radikon and La Castellada’s primary export market is Japan. “We do not have a long tradition of wine,” reflects Japanese importer Hisato Ota. “This helps so much in the acceptance of strange wines.” Ota, who brings Radikon and La Castellada into Japan, finds that natural wine resonates with Japanese culinary traditions. “The principal concept of Japanese cuisine would be to remove an element, rather than add, in order to enhance the essence of a thing. The same is true in natural wine.”

La Castellada makes the most approachable examples of macerated white wines in Oslavia. Stefano Bensa’s hand is light and soft, much like the soft, timid way he speaks. Radikon’s wines, are the most obstinately “natural” of the group. Freshly opened, the wines are sharply volatile, like mostarda, and smell of roasted nut and intensely concentrated, fleshy fruit preserves. Gravner’s wines—the benchmarks for the style—are marked by their age, oxidation, and maceration characteristics. Common elements throughout include an almost sweet-sour volatility, oxidative nutty aromas, intensely mineral flavors, and tannin. They exist in an in-between world of white and red wine and do not comfortably reside along most consumers’ preconceptions about wine. Gravner, however, aims for a different market; in one interview he sums up his stance:

There is the overweight person who eat(s) at McDonald’s and there are people who drive for 100 km to buy a kg of tomatoes and these will be my future customers.

Friulano (Cormons)
The namesake grape of Friuli is not actually native to the region. Genetically, the grape is identical to Sauvignonasse (Sauvignon Vert) from the Gironde. It isn’t actually related to Sauvignon Blanc; although it does exhibit grassy aromas, it is much fatter and lower in acid. Today, France records few official plantings of the grape, but it thrives in Friuli. Its name was famously shortened from Tocai Friulano to Friulano in light of EU protections for Hungary’s Tokaj.

Achieving great Friulano requires old vines and great sites, according to Christian Patat. Friulano needs wetter, richer soils in order to thrive, and rockier areas don’t benefit the grape. Friulano possesses flavors of ripe, fleshy fruits—peach, pineapple, even strawberry—balanced by herbaceousness. It can reach high alcohol content, sometimes inelegantly. Achieving fresh acidity and lift are determining factors for the quality of the wines.

Prosciutto di San Daniele: Prosciutto made in Friuli, classically paired with Friulano

A Signature Collio DOC Blend?
From his hilltop Zegla estate in Cormons, near the Slovenian border, Edi Keber’s son Kristian aims for international recognition for the name of Collio, and he believes the region’s style best resonates in the blend. DOC regulations permit a multitude of different varietal wines and blends, but Keber believes this muddies Collio’s chances for recognition: “How do you build awareness for an area? You can have a cooperative, or you can have many wineries making one product. Lots of grapes will just divide the market.” To drive his point home he has produced only one wine since 2008, a white blend of Friulano (body and texture), Malvasia Istriana (aromatics and spice), and Ribolla Gialla (acidity). Keber believes adoption of a signature Collio blend would also protect growers from the whims of the market—if Sauvignon is in fashion, it may take a grower four or five years to create a productive vineyard, but by that time interest may have already shifted to Pinot Grigio. It’s an expensive trend all too familiar to the growers of the Collio. Viticulture in this area of Collio is already an expensive endeavor, given the difficulties associated with working hillsides and ponca soils. Keber hopes to protect those growers taking a financial risk to make better wine.

The momentum behind Keber’s Collio blend, however, is stalled. Other producers (like Roncus, Picech, and Muzic) all produce a similar white blend, but they also make single-variety wines. Other producers in the region make white blends, but may use French grapes in the blend. No other producer is willing to take the commercial risk of dedicating their entire production to the blend, and there is little motivation to mandate the blend through regulations.

Friuli Colli Orientali DOC
With a quick hop over the Judiro River one lands in Friuli Colli Orientali DOC, a curved swath of land that straddles the foothills along Collio to the west and the Alps to the north. The plantings in the Colli Orientali account for about 20% of the total vineyard area in Friuli, and the region shows considerable diversity in climate, tradition, and styles.

19 communes comprise the appellation, and they largely share the climatic and soil conditions of Collio. Most of Colli Orientali is higher in elevation than Collio, but there is variation. In Buttrio, one of the warmest communes in Colli Orientali, elevation is typically around 90 meters. In Savorgnano to the north, elevations jump to 170 meters; in isolated Cialla, vineyards sit at 220 meters above sea level.

Terroir Exploration: Patat and Pontoni
The diversity of Colli Orientali and its shorter history of wine production allow new producers to create wines that highlight single varieties from single vineyards, often with less emphasis on classic Friulian grapes. The philosophy fits a Burgundian wine paradigm and plays to international tastes. Ronco del Gnemiz’s Christian Patat is a key proponent, pushing the envelope with little nostalgia for native grapes or traditions. With a sound understanding and familiarity of foreign tastes, Patat is focusing intensely on Sauvignon and prefers to make wines of “…power and concentration. Wines true to place, that adapt to their terroir.” (Coincidentally, Gnemiz is an adopted Slovenian word, meaning “foreigner.”)

Patat makes three Sauvignon wines from three different plots, allowing him to explore the expression of Sauvignon in different climates and soils. Each wine is vinified in barrel, without malolactic fermentation, and aged on the lees without bâtonnage or racking. The 2013 “Serena Palazzolo e Figli,” made from a rented vineyard in warm Buttrio and sold under a separate label (to distinguish it from estate wines), is high in alcohol, with prominent fruit chiseled by malic acidity. The 2013 “Salici” from San Giovanni is the lightest and most elegant of his range. Even at 14.5% alcohol, the wine is balanced by bracing acidity, ripe-yet-focused fruit, and intense, sulfur-driven minerality. Gnemiz’s greatest expression of Sauvignon, from the Peri vineyard in San Giovanni, is an exercise in intensity coupled with balance. The vines are 45 years old, and the vineyard occupies a warm site with rocky limestone soils. The 2013 is muscular with high-wire acidity, and it is the least reductive Sauvignon in the range, which allows its flavors to unfurl fully. No doubt the true rewards in this wine are a few years ahead, but its qualities are admirable now.

And then there is Enzo Pontoni of Miani, who represents a modern pinnacle of quality in Friuli. In the US, a Miani bottle sighting will unleash a storm of social media from any sommelier in earshot, and even in Friuli the wines are rare and expensive. He is in demand and the production is miniscule: a few single-vineyard, varietal wines from plots in Buttrio, Corno di Rosazzo, and Rosazzo—enough to fill a few rows of barrels in his tiny, concrete cellar. Patat, who has sold Miani internationally since the early 1990s, cherishes the occasional barrel samples as the opportunity to drink them out of a bottle is rare!

Pontoni only speaks Italian and Friulian—and very little of either, at that—so Patat translates. “He knows vineyards very well. He knows when to pick: ripe, not overripe. Miani whites are easy to describe as big and powerful, but through Patat Pontoni counters: The wine is “fat, with natural glycerin.” And he admits the skill required to achieve balance with the style: “Achieving concentrated reds is not difficult,” he says, “Everybody can do that. Finding elegant structures and refinement is difficult. You have a much shorter time to achieve that with white wines.” Witness the struggle: His whites are almost bracingly concentrated and dense; thick extract can drag with a certain friction across the palate, yet they finish inexplicably dry, fresh, cool, mineral. Each white wine shares this characteristic, yet never loses varietal identity.

Patat and Pontoni make “sommelier wine”: wines for comparison on the world level. They are less concerned with regional identity and more interested in the voice of a specific plot of land, expressed through a single grape.

Frico Caldo. Daniel recommends a rich Friuli Sauvignon or Keber's Collio.

Malvasia Istriana
One of Friuli’s most enjoyable grapes is also its most overlooked. Malvasia Istriana (known as Malvazija Istarksa) is a unique Malvasia, distinct from Greek grapes of the same name, and likely related to Sicilia’s Malvasia di Lipari, Chianti’s Malvasia Bianca Lunga, and Puglia’s Malvasia Nera di Brindisi. Malvasia Istriana itself exhibits great variation across Italy, Slovenia, and Croatia—the grape seems easily prone to mutation. Within Italy, the grape was first cultivated in Carso, but there are now widespread plantings in both Collio and Colli Orientali.

Soil plays a key role in wine character. On lighter and rockier soils, acidity and minerality are emphasized. In Carso’s sparser and rocky soils, Malvasia Istriana tastes distinctly rocky and salty. Richer soils, like those in Collio, produce full-bodied, spicy wines. Yields are also critical to character: Malvasia Istriana is highly vigorous and tends to be neutrally flavored if cropped too high. When properly grown, the wine is semi-aromatic with apricot, peach, and coriander spice flavors. The wines can be rich, high in alcohol and mouth-filling, but the best examples still retain fresh acidity. In contrast to other Malvasia grapes, Istriana is not overly perfumed or oily.

Branzino. Perfect with Friuli Malvasia.

Friuli Colli Orientali DOC Subzones
Among the diverse climates of Colli Orientali, five official subzones exist to highlight local specialties. Cialla, detailed below, is an official subzone for both Friuli Colli Orientali DOC and Colli Orientali del Friuli Picolit DOCG. Refosco di Faedis covers the northern area of Colli Orientali and focuses on varietal wines from the uncommon Refosco Nostrano. Pignolo di Rosazzo and Ribolla Gialla di Rosazzo are wines made from 100% of their respective varieties. Both are grown in the southern communes of Corno di Rosazzo, Manzano, and San Giovanni al Natisone. Finally, the commune of Prepotto specializes in Schioppettino. Schioppettino di Prepotto must be aged two years, or four for riserva wines.

Cialla
The Cialla subzone was established in 1992 as a 26-hectare monopole of the Rapuzzi family’s Ronchi di Cialla. Over 90% of its surface area is blanketed in forests, and the east-west valley it resides within is highest area in the entire DOC. At this higher elevation the ponca soils contain more limestone. The growing season is cool, but long, with some varieties harvested in October.

The Rapuzzi family of Ronchi di Cialla take pride in their region—it is the only denominazione in Friuli to feature only native grapes. Cialla bianco is made from a liberal mix of Picolit, Ribolla Gialla, and Verduzzo, inspired by historical field blends of the Middle Ages. “Blends are better than mono-varietal wines,” explains Ivan Rapuzzi. “The different grapes make up for their inherent weaknesses.” These whites are savory, earthy, and waxy, with astringent floral notes, dried stone fruit, salt, and clove spice. Cohesion of aromas is much more rewarding with extra years of bottle age. A 1997 tasted takes on the pine resin, honeycomb, and curry spice aromas of oxidation, while fresh acidity and phenolic bitterness hold the wine together.

Cialla rosso is a mix of Refosco dal Peduncolo Rosso and/or Schioppettino, aged for at least one year. Varietal wines are also permitted under Cialla's disciplinare. And in addition to those allowed in the DOC wine, the estate has 45 other native Friulian grapes planted!

Schioppettino
Friuli is undoubtedly a white wine region first, and the red Schioppettino grape is sparsely planted and undervalued. If not Friuli’s most delicious red grape, it is certainly its most elegant.

Schioppettino, from the Italian scioppettare, means “to explode,” referring either to the grape berries crackling in the mouth or the historical use of the grape for sparkling wines. In any case, the same grape has been called Ribolla Nera in Italy (though it has no relation to Ribolla Gialla) and Pokalca in Slovenia.

After phylloxera and World War II, Schioppettino was near extinction: There were a mere 70 plants in Friuli, and local regulations discouraged any more planting under penalty of a fine. Years later, Dina and Paolo Rapuzzi found and restored the few remaining vines, planting the first modern vineyard of Schioppettino at Ronchi di Cialla in 1971. Today this is the only source material for Schioppettino vines available in Italian nurseries. In 1977, the ban on planting Schioppettino was lifted, in 1981 it was declared an official grape of Udine, and in 1987 it was awarded DOC status.

Schioppettino favors cool, wet areas near forests or streams. One advocate, Lorena Tosseto of Petrussa, recalls the flood year of 1999 as disastrous for most of Friuli, but amazing for Schioppettino! Understandably, cool and forested Cialla is its modern birthplace and a top growing area, producing the most ethereal and elegant expressions of the grape. Six kilometers south of Cialla and nearer to the Judiro River, Albana is another famous site for Schioppettino, producing more structured and firm wines.

The wines from Ronchi di Cialla and Petrussa are very different. At Cialla, with long skin macerations and many years of aging, the wines are made in a traditional, Italian manner and often carry the imprint of brettanomyces. Petrussa, on the other hand, makes wines of pristine, vibrant fruit and focused tertiary aromas. (Petrussa’s bottling, at around $30 wholesale, is about half the cost of the Cialla.) In both wines, however, Schioppettino’s inherent character is clear. The wines are a dark ruby color with aromas of pomegranate and raspberry, black tea and violets. The tannins are soft and unobtrusive; acidity is bright and lively. It is reminiscent of Cru Beaujolais with some of the savor and heft of Saint-Joseph Syrah.

Rosazzo DOCG
In the south-central part of Colli Orientali, Rosazzo lies just east of Buttrio. White blends from the commune were produced as Colli Orientali until garnering independent DOCG status in 2011. The denominazione mandates a minimum 50% Friulano, backed by Pinot Bianco, Chardonnay, Sauvignon, and small amounts of Ribolla Gialla and/or other native white grapes. The wines must be aged for about two years and display a minimum alcohol content of 12%.

Rosazzo DOCG is an unabashed nod to Livio Felluga’s “Terre Alte,” often cited as one of Italy’s greatest white wines. The company holds no qualms about recognizing that the DOCG was created with their wine in mind—Felluga wanted the highest distinction available for the estate’s top wine. Others now make a Rosazzo DOCG wine too, including Mario Schiopetto, Adami, Le Vigne di Zamo, and Torre Rosazza.

("Terre Alte" is a single-vineyard wine, made from an 8-ha plot in Rosazzo. The wine is made from 50% Friulano, 25% Pinot Bianco, and 25% Sauvignon, and it is now fermented and aged in 1000-hectoliter barrels—a break from the new barriques of the past.)

Colli Oriental del Friuli Picolit DOCG
One of Collli Orientali’s most famous native wines, the delicate Picolit grape once competed in price and reputation with Tokaji in Europe. Today, the wine has only a few dedicated champions.

It’s a difficult grape to grow: Much of its pollen is sterile, making reproduction difficult, and the resulting fruit set is also incredibly low, with bunches averaging about 15 berries. And it is a passito-style dried grape wine! Those who make wines from Picolit today do so out of love, not money.

Historically Cialla was the most famous region for Picolit production (and it is the only defined subzone for Colli Orientali del Friuli Picolit DOCG today). The Rapuzzi family of Ronchi di Cialla actually possesses 2 ha of Picolit grapevines in an area called Picolit; research into the shared etymology continues. Newer vineyards of Picolit are going in near Savorgnano del Torre, a more elevated area—producers there are hoping elevation will aid pollination.

There are very few examples of the DOCG wine today. Aquilla del Torre and Ronchi di Cialla both make similar versions—delicately sweet, with expected passito flavors, enough acid to finish dry, and some unexpected vegetal notes. Perhaps the transcendent examples of Picolit that Ian D’Agata describes in Native Wine Grapes of Italy exist, but I did not find them. With more than enough great sweet wines in the world to satisfy diminishing demand, the expensive and time-consuming pursuit for Picolit becomes even more perplexing.

***

Friuli has a culturally diverse identity, and the region is still developing its wine culture. Not quite Italian, winemakers focus inward and on their own traditions in order to navigate the future. That future may be filled with geographically specific native blends that signal a new Friulian tradition; or amber-hued, natural wine cherished by eco-conscious consumers; or single-vineyard, terroir-focused wines that can be compared and contrasted. Will this region just serve to satiate sommeliers’ academic curiosity, or can it impact our profession and the larger wine-drinking public in a more meaningful way?

The region’s quantities are modest, but white wines from Friuli stand high above an ocean of innocuous quaffers. The distinctive threads running through Friulian whites places them among characterful categories like Smaragd Grüner Veltliner, Alsatian Riesling, and Hermitage blanc. Not everyday drinkers, these wines can provide an added tool in the arsenal of a knowledgeable sommelier and a memorable food and wine experience for our guests.

All photos are courtesy of Alexander Joyce.

Winetasting Terminology - The Poetry and the Prose

GuildSomm Admin — Thu, 02 Apr 2015 17:26:00 GMT

The purpose of each of the charts below is to link the chemical causes of distinctive wine aromas to the potential descriptions we can use to describe these elements. Each class of aromatic compound is explained in more detail in our Science of Tasting Expanded Guide.

Special thanks to Madeline Puckette from Winefolly.com for working with us on these graphics.

Fruit, flower, and herb:

Many fruity aromas and lightly floral tones are the result of esters. Esters are created by the interaction of acids and alcohol. They are often formed during fermentation and the specific yeasts and fermentation temperature may influence their character. Be careful not to confuse the lightly floral and fruity character of esters with the more distinctively aromatic terpenes.
Terpenes—specifically monoterpenes—are a diverse category of highly aromatic organic compounds that are produced by the grapevines themselves. Muscat, Gewürztraminer, Torrontes, and Viognier are known to be particularly high in terpenes while Riesling and Albariño contain moderate levels.
Pyrazines are responsible for many of the herbal aromas that we find in the Bordeaux varieties such as Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Carmenere, and Merlot. (Pyrazines in Malbec tend to be below the threshold of perception.) Be careful not to confuse their smell for that of stem inclusion.
Thiols are technically synonymous with Mercaptans—they easily capture mercury atoms—but we usually use the latter term to describe an onion or garlic faulty character, while we use thiol in reference to the grapefruit or passionfruit notes you are likely to find in a Sauvignon Blanc or Grüner Veltliner.

Earth:

Earthy aromas are perhaps the most complex to define in origin. They can be the result of microbial activity (often described as organic earth) as well as complex reduced sulfur compounds (often described as inorganic or mineral). It was once assumed that earthy flavors made their way from the soil through the grapevine into the grape but modern science gives us a different—yet admittedly complex—picture.

Geosmin is an organic compound with a notedly earthy smell. It is produced by bacteria and is a major component in the smell of wet rocks after a rain when these organic compounds are volatilized into the air. The transmission of geosmin into wine is likely the result of compounds being directly deposited on the skins of grapes rather than being transmitted through the vine.
Brettanomyces is a yeast that is naturally occurring and frequently found in a winery environment. An individual’s tolerance and taste for brett is highly subjective. It can be a defining character in many "old world" style wines as the result of a winery’s stylistic tolerance and not of any inherent terroir.
Volatile Acidity is a byproduct of microbial metabolism. Acetic acid bacteria (used to create vinegar) creates acetic acid, the most common form of VA. As it requires oxygen to grow, reductive environments and SO2 usage limit its presence. It can be a stylistically positive note in many classic oxidative wines such as Barolo or Rioja.
When we think of sulfur and wine we are often assuming the elemental form of S02 that is added as an antimicrobial and anti-oxidant. However, many reduced sulfur compounds are created as the result of fermentation and other complex chemical interactions. Low nutrient musts and low pH environments (high acid) may encourage some forms of reduced sulfur that are often described as chalky or flinty and can be an important component of cool climate wines such as Chablis, Sancerre, German Riesling, and Champagne.

Spice:

The spice of wine can come from both varietal fruit character as well as the influence of winemaking and oak aging. Distinguishing between the two can be an important factor in blind tasting.

While lactone esters can be present in grapes, their major impact in wine comes from oak aging. Vanilla, hazelnut, and coconut are common descriptors.
Rotundone is an aromatic sesquiterpene (for you geeks, they have three isoprene units while our floral monoterpenes have two). It is most associated with the essential oils of peppercorns and culinary herbs like basil and thyme. Syrah and Grüner are the two most iconic grapes which are high in these compounds but other lesser-known varieties such as Mourvèdre may showcase this aroma. Winemaking techniques such as filtration can have a major effect on reducing their levels.
Botrytis cinerea is a fungus that affects fruit following damp conditions. While most famous in sweet wines, they can also affect dry wines. Ginger, chamomile, honey, and saffron are telltale aromas and it is a common feature in the wines of Alsace, Austria, Germany, and the Loire Valley.
While we have previously mentioned the effect of thiols in fruit driven aromas like grapefruit, these compounds can also be responsible for some meaty or coffee like aromas expressed in red wines. Research is currently limited here, but we expect to see more links between thiol levels and certain spice character.

The charts and subsequent notes presented here do not represent an endpoint, but rather an ongoing dialogue. They are by no means exhaustive and we can imagine more charts in the future linking other classes of compounds to potential descriptions. This dialogue and our understanding thereof will continue to improve, and sommeliers can become better professionals if we expanded upon both the poetry and prose of wine-tasting.

Organic, Biodynamic, and Natural Wines Explained

GuildSomm Admin — Fri, 06 Feb 2015 14:36:00 GMT

By Ronan Sayburn MS
A version of this article originally appeared in print in the pages of Imbibe UK.

While judging at a recent Sommelier competition I saw a lot a varied answers to the question "Explain the differences between Organic, Biodynamic and Natural wines." It’s a good question and one that guests may well ask, so hopefully this article could help clear up some of the confusion. With all three, the end result is the same: simply to make good wine, that is derived from good grapes that are grown in good soil and achieved by returning to more traditional methods and working closer to nature. During the post war years, chemical scientists were working hard to improve our lives; inventing things such as polyester shirts and freeze-dried noodles in pots. The agricultural industry received its share of attention in the form of artificial fertilizers that promised to be labor-saving, cost-effective and to produce great results. Routine spraying and additions of nitrogen, magnesium and potassium to vineyards left soil barren, devoid of life and low in nutrients. Famed microbiologist Claude Bourgignon was quoted as saying that some of the most famous vineyards in Burgundy had less microbiological life than the Sahara desert, their soils depleted by the use of chemical fertilizers. Something had to change, and over the last thirty years a new approach has been adopted for many agricultural crops including wine grapes.

Organic Wines

Organic wine is wine made from grapes grown in vineyards that exclude the use of synthetic chemicals—fertilizers, herbicides, fungicides and pesticides.

The idea is that the best grapes possible are used in the manufacture of the wine. The soil is respected and biodiversity of the environment is encouraged. Vines grow in soil rich in worms, insects and bacteria. Cover crops of mineral rich leguminous plants, herbs and flowers are grown. This results in soil being full of nutrients and trace elements that the vines can take up. The vines are also stronger, healthier and more resistant to disease. Natural predators are added to the vineyard: ladybirds to tackle aphid problems, insectivorous birds to eat spiders or beetles, and chickens, emerging from mobile chicken coops placed around the vineyard, to eat grubs and vine weevils from the ground.

In some regions it is easier to grow organic grapes. In places like Alsace, where there is a hot, dry continental climate and vineyards are located on windblown slopes, mildew and rot is less of a problem. In Bordeaux—a warm, damp maritime climate with flat vineyards—rot and mildew can be a real problem. These places will usually practice lutte raisonée ("reasonable prevention"), in which a minimum amount of chemical spraying is adopted and only used when necessary. So they never become truly organic but they do adopt many of the same principles.

Converting from a conventional vineyard to an organic one is a three-year process that involves regular inspection. Organizations such as the Soil Association in the UK and Ecocert in France award the certification.

Vegetarian wine is not necessarily organic; as was once explained to me. It is wine made without the use of animal products at the fining stage—no egg whites or fish-derived gelatins are used. It is certainly not, as explained to me by an obvious lunatic, "a wine that is not suitable for serving with meat dishes."

Biodynamic wine

For a vineyard to be considered biodynamic the vine-grower must follow the organic criteria plus some or all of the philosophies first voiced in 1924 by Rudolf Steiner. Steiner was an Austrian cultural philosopher, social reformer and spiritual scientist; a genius who also worked on artistic media, drama, education methods, architecture and finally agriculture. On request of the Austrian farming industry he produced a series of lectures on an ecological and sustainable approach to agriculture that increased soil fertility without the use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides. His idea was to apply a holistic approach to the farm wherein every organism contributes and has part to play in the "circle of life." The farm should encourage biodiversity, be self-sustainable and resist monoculture through cultivation of a variety of plants (vineyards are normally monocultures as they grow just vines). It combines a planting, sowing, harvesting and pruning regime determined by the position of the sun, moon and planets. This approach, later refined by agriculturalist Maria Thun, provides the basis to modern biodynamics.

It is the circle of life. Animals eat the plants and plants eat the animals, everything is reduced to its basic carbon state and then rebuilt, it’s a continuous cycle.
~ Alvaro Espinosa, Chilean biodynamic superstar, winemaker of Emiliana and Antiyal

Steiner outlined nine preparations (500-508) these are made from cow manure, quartz (silica) and seven medicinal plants. Some of these materials are first transformed using animal organs as sheaths (the animal organs are not used on the vineyards). Of the nine biodynamic preparations three are used as sprays (horn manure, horn silica and common horsetail) and the other six are applied to the vineyard via solid compost. Preparations intended for sprays are mixed with water and go through "vortexing" where the liquid is vigorously stirred in one direction then another for up to an hour before use. This induces a slight glycerin-like thickness to the solution. I have seen silica sprays in use at Milton Estate in Gisborne—the tiny silica "lenses" sprayed in the vineyard create a myriad of rainbows and increase photosynthesis in the vine leaves by concentrating sunlight. Although there are some bizarre elements to the whole biodynamic philosophy, most advocates do not know why or how some of these preparations work; but admit they do. Bodies such as Demeter will grant a certificate for those reaching the criteria. Biodynamic growers see the vines as just part of the whole operation. It is very much considered to be a lifestyle choice for themselves, their workers and their livestock.

Things got much easier between myself and my cow when I looked him in the eye and realized he genuinely wanted to help.
~ Bertie Eden, Château Maris, Minervois la Livinière

Rudolph Steiner's Preparations 500-508

COW MANURE - Preparation 500: Cow manure is buried in cow horns in the soil over winter. The horn is then dug up, its contents (called horn manure or "500") are then stirred in water and sprayed on the soil in the afternoon. The horn may be re-used as a sheath. Stimulates soil life and root growth.
QUARTZ - Preparation 501: Ground quartz is buried in cow horns in the soil over summer. The horn is then dug up, its contents (called horn silica or "501") are then stirred in water and sprayed over the vines at daybreak. The horn may be re-used as a sheath. Enhances light metabolism and photosynthesis.
YARROW - Preparation 502: Yarrow flowers are buried, sheathed in a stag's bladder. This is hung in the summer sun, buried over winter, then dug up the following spring. The bladder's contents are removed and inserted in the compost (the used bladder is discarded). Encourages uptake of trace elements.
CHAMOMILE - Preparation 503: German chamomile (Matricaria chamomilla) flowers are sheathed in a cow intestine. This is hung in the summer sun, buried over winter, then dug up the following spring. The intestine's contents are removed and inserted in the compost (the used intestine is discarded). Stabilizes nitrogen and calcium and enhances soil life.
NETTLES - Preparation 504: Stinging nettles are buried in the soil (with no animal sheath) in summer, dug up the following autumn, and inserted in the compost. Stabilizes sulfur and stimulates soil health.
OAK BARK - Preparation 505: Oak bark is sheathed in the skull of a farm animal and buried in a watery environment over winter, then dug up. The skull's contents are removed and inserted in the compost (the used skull is discarded). Provides "healing forces" to prevent disease.
DANDELION - Preparation 506: Dandelion flowers are buried, sheathed in a cow mesentery (peritoneum). This is hung in the summer sun, buried over winter, then dug up the following spring. The mesentery's contents are removed and inserted in the compost and the used mesentery is discarded. Stimulates the relationship between silica and potassium so silica can attract "cosmic forces" to the soil.
VALERIAN - Preparation 507: Valerian flower juice is sprayed over and/or inserted into the compost. Stimulates compost so that phosphorus will be properly used by the soil.
HORSETAIL - Preparation 508: Common horsetail (Equisetum arvense) is used to prepare either a fresh tea or a fermented liquid manure; it is then applied either to the vines (as a tea) or to the soil (as a liquid manure). Lessens the effect of fungus.

Natural Wines

This is the tricky one, the controversial one, and the confusing one. There is no official or legal classification or standard set of operating procedures, which makes natural wine hard to define. A natural winemaker once told me: "conforming to standards and criteria goes against the principles of natural wine," but there are unofficial definitions and codes of practice published by various associations such as the l'Association de Vins Naturels, Vinnatur or Simbiosa.

Natural winemaking is very much a philosophy and a nose-to-tail approach to producing wine, extending from vineyard to bottling. In general, organic and biodynamic philosophies concentrate on the vineyard (and similar standards of care should pass into the winery), but with natural winemakers stricter, self-imposed standards exist. For example, copper sulfate sprays and cultivated yeasts are never used in natural wine. The biggest misconception is about sulfur dioxide, which has been used since Roman times as a disinfectant and an antioxidant. It is the only additive used in natural winemaking, and then only in small quantities—and only if the winemaker wishes to do so. By the very nature of this philosophy, natural winemakers are small-scale, artisan operations that may risk their entire year’s production by sticking to their principles, following an ancient and historical method that combines great care in the vineyard and winery to produce the best product that nature can provide. So why does it provoke so much criticism? Industry heavyweights such as Robert Joseph and Tim Atkin MW are openly scathing and Robert Parker called it "one of the major scams being foisted on the wine public." Is it the lack of rules—even though they are very strict about what can and cannot be done—or the fact that natural winemakers are called a "movement," yet deny such a movement exists? And what about the wines themselves? I have had many delicious natural wines—but also cloudy, fizzy, oxidized, laughably faulty wines; both seem to be acceptable to fans of the philosophy. The zealot-like following amongst some people is worrying—I was told by a young sommelier that "Lafite-Rothschild is not a real wine because they use sulfur," a statement born out of stupidity and ignorance. Wine lists that contain nothing but natural wines are in my opinion ridiculous; they offer limited choice and run the risk of creating patronizing Sommeliers that quite literally force their opinions down customers throats.

France and Italy area amongst the greatest advocates of natural wine—is this a strike back at New World "vin-technologies" that have taken so much of their market share over the last twenty years? Are the extremists and the most opinionated giving natural wine a bad name? Is it the wording; "natural, or real—implying all other winemakers are making unnatural or un-real wines? If natural wine was a company they would score highly in the arena of corporate responsibility but its marketing department would get the sack.

Finally, an analogy with chickens.

Go to Whole Foods and buy the very best chicken they have. It will be corn-fed, free-range and it will taste great. This is organic wine.
Search out a local butcher, the best you can find, and buy his most expensive chicken. It will be corn-fed, free-range, and coming from a small farm—the feet and head are still attached. It tastes fantastic. This is biodynamic wine.
Raise your own chicken, kill it, pluck it and eviscerate it. Then spit-roast it on an open fire. If you have some chicken skills it will taste amazing. If not you risk salmonella, chewing on feathers and your friends thinking you are bonkers. But you won't care and will still insist it’s the best chicken ever.

This is natural wine.

Somm Camp 2014

GuildSomm Admin — Tue, 09 Dec 2014 13:08:37 GMT

Top 13 Things We Learned at Somm Camp

This past November the Guild of Sommeliers hosted our second annual Somm Camp, bringing 12 American and Canadian CMS-certified sommeliers to Napa Valley and Sonoma County for a three-day immersion in winemaking and viticulture. For making this incredible opportunity a reality, we are very grateful to our sponsors: Jackson Family Wines' Spire Collection (including Vérité, Lokoya, Cardinale, Anakota, and Galerie), Mayacamas Vineyards, Wind Gap Wines, Kistler Vineyards, and Frog's Leap Winery. We got a chance to visit them all!

We asked each of our 12 attendees to share a few things they learned while out in California. Following are their thoughts...

1. The “hills” are alive. Before the trip, we lumped together Napa Valley's mountain AVAs into one specific style: mountain fruit. After our Howell Mountain and Mt. Veeder visits with winemaker Chris Carpenter, we really grasped the differences between the AVAs. Don't equate the two!

- Howell Mountain: On the northeastern end of Napa Valley, Howell Mountain is part of the Vaca Mountain Range. It faces west and is sheltered from Pacific breezes, with a wall of conifer pines protecting much of the western side. The soil—soft and crumbly volcanic ash with red clay intermixed—is known as tufa (not to be confused with the limestone tuffeau of the Loire Valley). Chris considers this the coolest of the mountain AVAs, and typically this is the last mountain AVA to ripen.
- Mt. Veeder: Mt. Veeder is on the southwestern end of Napa, amid the Mayacamas Mountain range. It is in direct view of San Pablo Bay and faces southeast. It is also protected by dense forest but is more vulnerable to cool marine breezes flowing north up the valley than Howell Mountain. Soils are more rocky and sedimentary.
- These terroir distinctions between Howell Mountain and Mt. Veeder are much more clear when you can taste them side by side. Lokoya wines express the terroirs of the individual AVAs, while Cardinale wines showed the balance of blending different sites from each. Even the challenging 2011 vintage showed depth, complexity and ability to age in both wines.

2. Get out in the vineyard! Regardless of how much you read or study, it really helps to be in the vineyard to fully understand training and pruning methods. We visited Pax Mahle's Nellessen Vineyard (planted to Syrah) and watched as concepts of viticulture materialized in front of us. He explained a year in the vineyard and demonstrated exactly what is done to maintain vines annually, from winter pruning through harvest. Pax was transforming theory into practice, right there in the vineyard!

3. Speaking of Syrah... Syrah is pretty vigorous. The vine produces two crops with the lower crop containing a “wing.” This wing causes uneven ripening, so it is frequently cropped out. To balance growth a double row of cordons (a “quadrilateral cordon-trained” vine) is used to control vigor. Topping (vines are trimmed at the top where sunlight is drawn) then causes the plant to respond by growing down and outward, focusing on ripening the fruit rather than vegetative growth.

4. Sometimes all you need is a growler of Trousseau Gris and a shot of tequila to get you through the day... No need to elaborate.

5. What's better than Napa Cabernet? 10-year old Napa Cabernet. We were, shall we say, "#blessed" to taste many mature bottles of Napa Cabernet during a dinner at Mayacamas Vineyards. All these older bottles and all these sommeliers, yet only Jimmy Hayes has an ah-so on hand! Simple but necessary: if you call yourself a somm, you better always have one on you. And Jimmy? He is a master with the ah-so. Watch and learn, and you too can one day attain this legendary status. (Yes, it's the quickest way to open a bottle of wine. Short of breaking it.)

6. Being treated like a guest is glorious. When you consider that our standard daily routine involves dumping spit buckets, standing for hours, polishing endless glasses, making dozens of pairing recommendations—not to mention distributor appointments, office work, and the constant deluge of emails—we got to leave all that behind for a few short days. This trip gave us unfettered time to learn and appreciate wine without our daily regimen of worries. Instead, menus and wine pairings were tailor-made for us! (Our names were even spelled correctly on the menus!?) These people were ON IT. So–what does it all mean? Take note: this experience was a reminder of what it feels like to be the guest, and reaffirmed the importance of hospitality and guest service in our restaurants, hotels, and stores. Do not underestimate the significance of hospitality.

7. The sommelier community is small. Whether you’re hosting or someone's guest, always be gracious and put your best face forward. You never know where or when you’ll meet someone again, at another time or place, and make a lasting connection. Get to know winemakers, master sommeliers and anyone else involved. How rare for sommeliers from all over the country (and Canada) to meet without the lurking stress of a Certified/Advanced test in the background?

8. Have you met John Williams, Frog's Leap Winery's enthusiastic, passionate and charismatic winemaker? We walked through the gardens and olive groves while John explained the winery’s dedication to dry farming. “Vines are not stupid!” Irrigation directs a vine to put out shallow roots and changes their natural “brain” signals—signals that would otherwise direct the vine to slow growth during a drought. Green flavors come from vigorous vine growth. "If a vine grows like a weed, it tastes like a weed.” The folks at Mayacamas agreed, explaining that vines respond to drought stress naturally by producing grapes with more color (grape sex drive!) to preserve themselves. “You have to think like a grapevine,” Williams explained. “It’s the power of thinking along with nature.”

9. Know that smell. During our tasting at Kistler Vineyards, Geoff Labitzke MW demonstrated how to understand the underlying reasons why a wine tastes and smells the way it does. Using reduction as an example, we describe wines as “mineral” and “flint” as if this came from the soil. But this isn’t the case. (Flint isn’t soluble in wine!) Reduction creates these aromas. Extreme reduction may be unpleasant (think rotten egg hydrogen sulfide aromas). A small amount can be pleasant. It adds the mineral element—"flint"—and complexity to a wine. As sommeliers, we’re responsible for understanding and verbalizing what’s really going on in our glass, even when it’s highly technical. But perhaps we'll choose a different language tableside...

Tasting tips... Are you ready?

10. Listen to your peers. If you are in the Certified-swing-of-things and hoping to move towards Advanced, it is incredibly helpful to listen to others go through their tasting routine. Their rhythm, timing, and vocabulary are helpful examples to pull from. Some key factors to successful tasting: 1) Understanding the science behind a wine’s flavors and knowing which varieties carry these characteristics (pyrazines, terpenes, thiols, rotundones) will improve your conclusions. 2) Taste wine non-blind! Work on understanding how a classic wine is meant to taste rather than how you think it should taste. 3) Learn to taste wine in 2-3 sips. It builds endurance for longer tastings. Plus you look like a pro. Yes, well... easier said than done.

11. "Experience the wine." Geoff Kruth had us taste through the wine without making either initial or final conclusions, and it was incredibly helpful. When we took away the pressure, it allowed us to take time to experience the wine. What should we remind ourselves and emphasize to our peers? Allow the wine to speak to you and speak for itself, rather than taking one note from the wine and running with it (e.g., white pepper always equals Grüner.)

12. Choose wisely. The quality of your tasting group is just as important as what you taste. Consider how the group selects wines and ensures that they are classic examples. Try acquainting your own palate with the classics by writing your own descriptions of them at all levels of quality. “What are the classics at village, premier cru and grand cru levels?” John Blazon asked. "That’s thinking like a Master.” Make sure members of your group are (1) providing classic wines, (2) are serious, and (3) have the same goals as you. Hold everybody in the group accountable. It’s okay to make friends too.

13. Internalize the tasting grid. No, we mean it. Put a ring on it. Take it to meet your mother. Sure, like any system, the grid is faulty. Despite its imperfections, it’s better than any other system we have. Internalizing the grid is like practicing service—it will help you become confident and smooth. Put another way: Knowing the grid backwards and forwards is like doing scales in music—you have to know and practice this type of pedagogical method before you can become a master. In the words of John Blazon, MS, “The grid is your roadmap. If the grid is internalized, then the wine will start to speak to you and tell you what’s there.”

Transitioning from the Floor

GuildSomm Admin — Fri, 05 Dec 2014 13:22:00 GMT

Moving from the sommelier world to the supply side.

When Matt (Stamp) asked me to write this article, my gut reaction was: “Sure, no problem.” Why? Because that’s my general response to things in my life in the distribution of beverage alcohol. Call it wine, call it liquor, call it saké—whatever you want to call it, in distribution it’s all beverage alcohol. And it’s my job to distribute it. What follows won’t answer every question about how to successfully transition from the floor to the wholesale world, nor will it guarantee an interview. But I do hope to show how I got my foot in the door of distribution—and how I was able to take that small opening and capitalize on it. I can tell you what traits I look for (and what I don’t) when I’m hiring. And I can tell you the realities of a life in distribution—the work load, the hours, and the stress. Of course this is just one point of view, as seen from inside the world of one of the largest beverage alcohol distributors in the United States.

The question begs: why did I leave the floor? I’ll start at the beginning. Right out of college, I took a sales position in a different industry, where—amidst an otherwise awful experience—I gained key knowledge in business and sales. My first wine job came a few years later, and I started at the bottom, stacking boxes for a great retail wine shop. For two and a half years. But during this period I learned how to sell wine to consumers and how to buy wine for the shop. I learned to negotiate with distributors and suppliers while deepening my understanding of the sell-side of the business. I started developing relationships with the people that sold wine to me—the importers, the distributors, the winemakers, the owners—everyone I worked with. I met a Master Sommelier in my market for the first time. I learned a tremendous amount about wine in those years—I soaked up producers, labels, varieties, regions… all the little details that made wine cool and amazing and limitless. I probably learned more about the world of wine in that period than at any other point in my wine life. I caught the bug.

With that experience (and a decent result at a sommelier competition), I transitioned into the restaurant world. I started out as an Assistant Sommelier (read: cellar rat) at a flagship fine-dining restaurant, and through good luck, fortune, and hard work I was out on the floor fairly quickly. I spent over three years as the Head Sommelier, and in that position I continued to develop new relationships and entrenched the ones I had—with distributors, suppliers, customers, anyone buying wine from me or selling it to me. Building positive relationships with the people you buy and sell from pays dividends, now and down the road. In fact, the real value of my efforts here would become much clearer only after my tenure as Sommelier ended. In the meantime, I was fortunate to pass the CMS Advanced and Master Sommelier Exams while working the floor, and I continued to work for the company for nearly two years after achieving the MS diploma. But life, as it often does, got in the way. My wife and I were blessed with a beautiful child, and the work demands of a floor position left little time for my family. I wanted to be home, to be around on the weekend, to spend the holidays with my family. I wanted to see my child grow up. All those things you tend to lose out on in the restaurant business.

I took a position in education—decent pay, great hours, plenty of time off. But for reasons beyond my control, things didn’t pan out. Frankly, all hell broke loose. I was in need of a job. Quick. So I looked back to all those relationships I had cultivated in almost seven years in the wine business. When things started to disintegrate, I called three people. All three had one thing in common: none currently worked in restaurants. (I was dead-set against going back to the floor.) Each worked in distribution or as a supplier. These were people I had made a point of getting to know well. My end of the conversation went something like: “Hi. I need a job.” And upon hearing my story, one of them (a distributor) said, “let’s talk.” Now this was in 2009—the economy was tanking, and no one was creating new positions. Yet this company did just that. I drove down to meet with the Executive Vice President, and a few days later I got a call: they wanted to bring me on. They had no idea what I was going to do, but they knew they wanted me to work for them. It was up to me to figure out what I could do for this distributor. It’s the old Harvard thought process: any job worth having is one that has to be created for you.

I knew a few things. I knew a little bit about selling, and I knew a little bit about wine and spirits. I knew I could create a kick-ass PowerPoint. And I knew something about the way business works. I didn’t know the first thing about distribution, but business? Sure.

So, thousands of hours and five-plus years later, I run a 30-person division that handles both importing and the wholesale distribution of beverage alcohol. We develop budgets, make deals, help bring in new brands, drive case goals, run a good number of consumer events, train a lot of resort and restaurant staff members—all with an employer that understands what the Court and the Guild means to me personally and to the buyers, suppliers and consumers. They took a chance on me, and I hope they are happy.

Are you considering a similar transition off the floor? Here are a few things to keep in mind:

The myths about distribution:

“All distributors do all day is eat, taste, and talk.”
“It’s so great—I’ll be home by 5 pm every day and have my nights and weekends free.”
“There’s no way I’ll be working as much as I did on the floor."
“All you do is taste cool wine.”

The facts about distribution:

Every meal out is work. Every taste of wine or spirit is work. Every discussion is work.
I would guess that the average Sales Associate (sales rep) works around 60 hours a week, and often puts in seven days a week during the busy seasons. Conference calls begin at 8 am, paperwork and orders that didn’t get filled keep you at the desk until 10 am. Hit the street until 6 pm. Meet a supplier/boss/buyer(s) until 9 or 10 pm. Meet with a tasting group until 1 am. Rinse. Wash. Repeat.
Depending on your territory, you can put 20-30,000 miles a year on your car. Most companies don’t reimburse your mileage.
I hear a lot of sommeliers want to get into education on the distribution or supplier side. Most of these positions are held by veteran and very successful former sales persons and managers. After all, education in distribution is primarily focused on selling techniques, not the soils of Alsace.
You sell what needs to be sold and what your buyers want to buy. These are not always the same thing.
It’s a very different line of work than what most expect. More hours, more stress.
Goals are an everyday stress, but they also provide job security.
Buyers can be very difficult (yes, you).
You repeatedly talk about a specific group of wines, not the world of wine.
There is always work to be done and precious little separation between work and home—you work out of your house and your car most of the time.

The highlights of a career in distribution:

You generally get out what you put in, and then some.
There is no set schedule.
You are on the dining side of the table, even if it is work.
You get to experience a wide variety of food and beverage.
You do get a good number of “normal” weekends off. And holidays!
The opportunity for growth—both personally and professionally—is huge.
You get to meet—and spend significant time with—really fascinating individuals, amazing winemakers, and different people from all corners of the industry.

Is it for you? Well, this is what I look for when I’m hiring someone:

Attitude
Sales Ability
Sales Ability
Sales Ability
Relationship-building skills. Reading people is especially key and really impacts Sales Ability.
Ability to juggle many different things at once.
Business Skills
Overall Knowledge

The truth is that you can teach someone everything they need to know to sell wine. You can’t teach passion. You can help passion bloom, but if someone doesn’t have the desire to learn, you can’t teach it. I look for individuals who understand they know very little, but crave to constantly grow. I look for people who love the wine and spirits business. I look for people who know that every wine has a place somewhere—arrogance in distribution doesn’t work. Quality is subjective.

A sales rep for a distributor is a sales person, a confidant, a delivery person, a telemarketer, a business consultant, an analyst, an encyclopedia, a negotiator, a debt collector. In short, a sales rep is a problem solver.

Many of these traits are already in a good sommelier’s repertoire. You already demonstrate sales ability. You can juggle many multiple tasks (i.e., tables) at once. You can read the guest. A savvy buyer can negotiate deals and quickly find holes (opportunities) in a list. Heck, you can probably even expertly sell wines you don’t personally relate to—talking up a bottle as the best thing ever just because you need to move through a million cases in inventory that your predecessor saddled you with. If you are thinking about transitioning from the floor to the warehouse, take honest stock of your own skill set. Take a good look at how well you understand the buying and selling of beverage alcohol, and remember: build those relationships! You never know when someone across the aisle is going to save your ass.

The writer of this story prefers to remain anonymous.

Languedoc: GoS Report 2014

GuildSomm Admin — Wed, 10 Sep 2014 15:46:00 GMT

In July 2014, the Guild of Sommeliers sent six members—Amanda McCrossin, Nadia Pavleska, John Freitas, William Moss, Daniel Bjugstad, and Eric Entrikin MS—to Languedoc in Southern France to experience this rapidly evolving wine region. Following is their report.

Languedoc: Then and Now
Eric Entrikin MS

What can you say about a region that has a 2,600-year-long history of vine cultivation, yet everything current seems to have been achieved in the last ten years? Recent dramatic changes in the Languedoc occurred due to economic, social and political climates that seemed to converge in the early 2000s. On the economic front, the costs of producing wine in the region were rising and inexpensive bulk imports from Spain, Italy and Portugal were taking sales away from the local wines. Socially, the French population was drinking less wine and moving away from the average table wine produced in the region. And on the political side the EU-mandated vine-pull scheme (arrachage) helped dry up the Great European Wine Lake Languedoc had been faithfully contributing to—and ended government subsidization of low-quality bulk wines. In 1990 the region yielded 29 million hectoliters but production dropped to 11 million hectoliters by 2010. (It is slowly rising again.) Many growers just decided to quit and accepted the buyout to remove their vineyards. Sadly, the intention of the vine-pull scheme—to remove the bulk wine sites—was not necessarily preserved, as it affected both young high-production vineyard sites and old vine vineyards that had high quality but low production. Fortunately, some of these old vineyards were left in place and have helped to create a better understanding of the best sites for specific grapes and types of wine.

The Languedoc is a region of many identities. I was there about ten years ago—around the time of the violent protests against imported wines—and could see desperation among many growers and winemakers. For decades the French government subsidized the growing of grapes, followed by EU payments to rip out vines (beginning in 1988). With payments coming to an end and the region in crisis many Languedoc growers asked: what do we do now? When I returned to the region this past July, the road to a new identity for Languedoc winegrowers had been underway for a few years. First came separation from the Roussillon and greater development of a unique regional identity. Then the subregions of this large area started searching for their own true identities. As this trend continues, I would expect more subregions of the Languedoc to receive their own AOPs in the next few years, just as Terrasses du Larzac received AOP status shortly before our trip in July.

The search for identity has led them on a bit of a wild ride. In the early part of the 20th century the Languedoc was the chief source of the daily wine allotment for every French soldier, and it later became the source for the value wines drank by the majority of French consumers. When they started to fall by the wayside the region began looking for new customers and had to renew its focus—both within and outside France. Initial attempts saw producers attempting to please critics. While this is not always a bad move, it may not have been the best vehicle to establish an identity for the region. There was a concerted effort by larger, quality-minded négociants like Paul Mas, Georges Bertrand’s Château L’Hospitalet (L’Hospitalet’s Gris Blanc, made from Grenache Gris, was a refreshing surprise on our arrival), Jeanjean and Val d’Orbieu among others. They sought to make value and quality synonymous rather than opposing factors. Now individual growers are in the early stages of developing their wines and discovering the identity of their terroir. Smaller producers, once the exception, are the new normal in the Languedoc and are enriching the varied character of Languedoc wines. Some still chase the critics, but many are turning their attention to the true nature of their terroir. In a region where more than 90% of the production is red, there was a clear dividing line between wines that were elegant and balanced and wines weighted down by extraction and oak. I hope vignerons in the region look to the former to shape the identity of their regions—when minimally handled many of the reds we tasted showed a distinctive savory quality that would distinguish them from the nearby reds of the Rhône. Overall, I came away with a new appreciation for the wines of the Languedoc and look forward to seeing many of them hit our shores, and I feel the region will experience greater development than any other in France over the next few years.

They'll have to change the sign...

Languedoc History
Dan Bjugstad

Compared to just about every other French winemaking region, the Languedoc's reputation is undeniably poor. But the Languedoc has as much, if not more, historical precedent for grape-growing as Burgundy, Bordeaux, or the Rhône Valley. 5th-century BCE Greek settlers are likely the source of Muscat and Bourboulenc in the Languedoc, but the first written record of grape production dates to the 2nd century BCE, after the arrival of the Romans. Cicero, in De Re Publica, references a decree from General Scipio Aemelianus forbidding the Gauls from growing vines or olives in Gallia Transalpina (the modern Languedoc region) in favor of Italian exports. This attitude seems to have relaxed by the first decades of the Common Era, as Greek geographer Strabo writes in Geographica about vines near modern-day Narbonne. He describes the local warriors-turned-farmers cultivating the same figs, olives, and vines as were grown in Italy.

With the increase of Christian power in Late Antiquity, vine cultivation fell under the stewardship of monastic organizations. This recurring motif throughout wine history could have been as successful for the Languedoc as it was for Burgundy or the Rhône Valley; unfortunately, this period was disrupted by a wave of extreme violence. In 1209 Pope Innocent III began a crusade against the Cathars of the Languedoc, an ascetic splinter of the Catholic religion who might have been considered social progressives today. Unfortunately they angered the wrong people, and after 20 years and nearly a million dead the Languedoc was in ruin.

Attempts to restore wealth and prestige proved difficult. In 1667 construction of the Canal Royal en Languedoc began—it became known as the Canal du Midi after the French Revolution. The canal was an ambitious project; its architects hoped to connect the Mediterranean at the Etang du Thau near Pinet with the Atlantic at the Gironde, thereby limiting the supremacy of Spanish trade while increasing the economic power of the Languedoc. For their part the winemakers of the region hoped to gain access to the English markets available through Bordeaux. The project was so costly that even the government would not finance it entirely; instead, chief engineer Pierre-Paul Riquet poured his own fortune into the project only to die in 1680—one year before its eventual completion. The canal did widen the market of the Languedoc within France, but the coveted English import market remained closed. The Bordelais enjoyed centuries-old privileges with England that simultaneously excluded their wines from any tariffs while preventing other regions from selling their wares before St Martin’s Day (November 11)—just enough time for the Bordelais to harvest, vinify, and sell their lots of wine to England before anyone else got a chance.

In 1855 the railway between Paris and Marseilles opened and increased the demand for Languedoc wine, which could suddenly be shipped cheaply by rail. Between 1850 and 1870, plantings in the Languedoc quadrupled—just in time, of course, for phylloxera to strike France! During the period of rebuilding Languedoc vignerons continued to over-plant as foreign wines were subject to heavy taxes. To meet domestic demand Languedoc producers planted hectare upon hectare of the vigorous Aramon grape. The wines were routinely chaptalized, manipulated, and considered poor quality. By 1907 the resulting deflation in grape prices caused farmers and grape growers to demonstrate in towns throughout the Languedoc. In Narbonne the demonstrations turned to riots, resulting in the shooting and killing of five protesters by the military.

These violent events resulted in the déclaration de récolte—mandatory harvest declaration—by the government and the widespread expansion of cooperatives. Both were designed to curb the Languedoc’s tendency to overproduce. Efforts were only partially successful as the extremely vigorous Aramon grapes were replaced with slightly-less-vigorous Carignan.

One of the last periods of vine expansion in the Languedoc occurred in the 1980s. This happened to occur simultaneously with the phylloxera outbreak in California that targeted AXR1 rootstocks. Producers we spoke with in the Languedoc hinted that their wines were imported and blended into Californian wine during that time, but I found no evidence to corroborate these claims. This last surplus, wherein Carignan was ripped out in favor of international varieties and more Syrah, was countered by the EU-sponsored vine-pull scheme. But wine prices continued to fall. In 2008, 100 years after the Narbonne riots, Languedoc winemakers once again took to the streets to protest, starting fires and causing property damage. The French government acquiesced with €3 million in aid.

Today, the region is mostly peaceful but no less lost in the modern market. Thousands of years of foreign meddling have stymied the development of a native wine culture. Yet today, with quality-focused winemakers and curious sommeliers on board, the Languedoc has a new opportunity to find, and define, itself.

Pure Expressions
Amanda McCrossin

Montpelier greeted us with its sunny 85° arms in mid-July; we all arrived jet-lagged but eager for discovery. As we traveled south to Narbonne I couldn’t help but notice the ease of the landscape unfolding in front of us. Lush green foliage atop rocky, schist-laden soils covered the mountains and valleys as we weaved around on our way to Château L’Hospitalet in the La Clape subregion. I wasn’t necessarily surprised by the rustic stone enclaves or the topography of the land—after all, we were in the south of France. Tranquil and picturesque, it embodied everything I expected it to, as if the rest of the world had passed by and left it untouched for hundreds of years. What I didn’t anticipate was the feel of it all: this feeling of ease and respect for the land, the weather, and the grapes. It was evident in everything from the wine and the food to the people and their relaxed sensibilities. Perhaps the most important takeaway from my experience in Languedoc wasn’t so much the varying nuances in wines from one area to another (although these certainly exist), but the how and why of the wine and the reason it should remain exactly as it is—pure and simple expression of fruit in a pure and simple region.

At times our days seemed to be endless, albeit welcome, progressions of meals. At our first lunch, at Abbaye Sylva Plana in the Faugères AOP, our host at the vineyard preemptively apologized for the food—I’m still not entirely sure why—and its lack of flair and precision. No apology necessary: the chef pulled the best ingredients from the land and just let everything happen naturally. A simple tomato salad picked straight from the farm, drizzled with olive oil pressed from surrounding trees, and basil from the nearby herb garden was essentially perfect. The wines we tasted on that day varied greatly, with some styles seeing minimal or no oak usage (concrete/stainless steel) while others underwent full-on barrel aging for 2-3 years. But there was this consistent notion of ripe vibrant fruit and minerality—especially evident in many of the wines that saw little to no oak. At Domaine de Cébène, Brigitte Chevalier introduced us to her bright, unobstructed, Mourvèdre-based "Felgaria" with its notes of cassis and lavender—a prominent wild flower throughout the region. According to Brigitte, great care was taken to ensure “as little intervention as possible.” And there it was: in parallel with the region's gastronomy, the wines allowed the fruit to express itself honestly. There was balance, purity, and—most importantly—a sense of the region.

In Pinet—home to the Picpoul de Pinet AOP—white wines made from Picpoul Blanc (“lip stinger”) are everywhere. The ease and high acidity of these wines made them hard to resist. Domaine Gaujal de Saint Bon and Château de Pinet both produce great examples. The best, as elsewhere, saw only stainless steel or cement, and great care was taken to maintain the integrity of the grapes. Languedoc claims Picpoul de Pinet wines are the “new Pinot Grigio.” A complete marketing ploy, but I would agree that the flavor profile and price point (a very reasonable $8-$15/bottle frontline) could allow Picpoul de Pinet to achieve widespread appeal and a prominent place in the American wine market.

For the last few years farm-to-table restaurants have been a major trend in the United States. What better way to complement the idea than with wines of the same caliber? I don’t expect Languedoc to achieve the quality and prices of Burgundy and Bordeaux anytime soon, but I don’t think it needs to, either. For me Languedoc is the perfect example of great quality wine I can enjoy with a simple meal of roasted meat and grilled vegetables from the garden. Without pretense, pomp and circumstance, Languedoc wines can be just pure, simple, delicious.

Vines at Domaine de Cébène in Faugères.

Freshness & Acidity
Nadia Pavlevska

I kept trying to find some common ground and trends among all the AOPs and regions we visited. I asked winemakers about the state of the region overall and their common goals. Repeatedly I heard the same answer: acidity, acidity, acidity. Freshness has been one of the main issues for producers in Languedoc over the past 10 years. The winemakers were trying to achieve freshness in a variety of ways: by taking advantage of the cooling effect of the Atlantic, playing with vineyard exposures, seeking protection from the sun in the foothills, picking earlier, and using new vinification practices that support the retention of acidity. Collectively, it was working. Many of the wines were surprisingly balanced and fresh in the warm Mediterranean climate of southern France, with its reputation for riper table wines driven by higher levels of alcohol.

I found the white wines to be especially refreshing, interesting, and very aromatic—often either floral or herbal. The majority of them were Rhône-style blends comprised of grapes like Roussanne, Marsanne, Viognier, Vermentino/ Rolle, and Grenache Blanc. We tasted some varietal wines, which were—with the exception of Picpoul de Pinet AOP—often classed as IGP rather than AOP. Picpoul I enjoyed very much; it is an easy-drinking, unpretentious wine that has just the right amount of acidity to make it refreshing and summery. Winemakers from the coastal appellation suggest that it is best one year after harvest—after two or three years the wine starts to lose its freshness. It's a favorite local pairing with oysters. The 2013 vintage was exceptional for Picpoul, and a great vintage for the whites of Languedoc in general. In comparison to 2012, 2013 is fresher, cleaner, and has more vibrant and pronounced acidity. Overall, there is a lot of potential for growth among the white wines of Languedoc, and some winemakers indicated that with rising popularity they may increase production in some AOPs, like Faugères.

White Wines Ascendant
Eric Entrikin MS

I expected many full-bodied, rich and flavorful red wines from this sunny region—which we tasted—but I was really excited by the quality and character of the white wines. This is a new development: Faugères got its AOP in 1982 for reds, but white wines were not added until 2005. In the inland, semi-mountainous region of Faugères winemakers have identified 12 different types of schist—it is the predominate soil—and Roussanne is the main variety for white wines. At the Abbaye Sylva Plana they produce a white Faugères composed of Roussanne, Grenache Blanc and Viognier, displaying a dense floral layer, wax, nut, and straw—yet a strong mineral component and a compendium of stone and citrus fruits give it balance.

La Clape is only four km from the coast. Only 600 years ago the region was an island—alluvial runoff from the Pyrenees connected it to the mainland. In La Clape the soil is predominately limestone, a perfect terroir for the mixture of white grapes that go into the wines. Château D’Anglès "Classique," made with 50% Bourboulenc, 30% Grenache Blanc, and 10% each of Marsanne and Roussanne, provided a refreshing start to a delicious alfresco meal in the early evening. Bourboulenc—often called Malvoisie in the region—is required to make up 40% of the blend; I’ve had it in blends from Cassis in Provence, but the character expressed here in La Clape provided a richer, longer flavor profile.

One of the most expressive whites I tried during my week in the Languedoc came from the Château Notre Dame du Quatourze, an estate owned by Georges and Suzanne Ortola south of the city of Narbonne. Although the subzone of Quatourze can annex its name to the Languedoc AOP, producers may only do so for red wines, so the château must continue to bottle white wines under the general AOP. The "Cuvée Nautica" 2012 had an intense plethora of aromas—grapefruit, pineapple, green mango, fennel, pine tar—and a salty, briny mineral note underlying a ripe body that was still light on its feet. All of these wines finished with a brightness that may have been missing just 10 years ago; they were refreshing yet rich and carried a true stamp of terroir. Another surprise came in Limoux at the Domaine de Flassion, producers of the Antech Blanquette and Crémant de Limoux sparkling wines. The Antech Blanquette de Limoux Brut Nature was a fantastic wine that would give any sparkling wine lover a great introduction to the world of zero dosage—Mauzac is somewhat lower in acid than typical sparkling wine grapes and tends to really benefit from no added sugar. The wine had an intense purity led by shaved fennel, pear, and peach, and an iodine-brine note on the back end. If these wines are a window to the quality and range that can be produced throughout the Languedoc today we will certainly see more of them arrive on our shores.

Vines at La Clape.

Limoux Méthode Ancestrale
Dan Bjugstad

“It is 5% of our production and 95% of our headache,” said Francoise Antech, referring to her family’s production of Méthode Ancestrale Vin Mousseux Blanc. It's so much trouble that many producers in Limoux don't even bother to make this ancient style of wine. From nearby vineyards—all located within 15 kilometers of the winery—Antech selects parcels of Mauzac vines that will last until the last days of harvest, letting the grapes accrue high levels of sugar. Once harvested (long after the Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc) the wine is fermented in concrete tanks. Once the juice reaches 5% alcohol by volume, it is cooled to 0° C, arresting fermentation. The wine is then bottled and brought up to a temperature of 14-16° C. Fermentation resumes, creating carbonation. This slow "secondary fermentation"—really just a restart of the first—can continue for four to six weeks, resulting in a final alcohol of about 6.5%. The wine is disgorged, but yeasts will remain in the bottle.

Then the headache begins: after dégorgement, it's time to brace for the explosions. Re-fermenting bottles will actually erupt in Antech's cellar! In some years, she can lose up to 20% of her production; in others, not a single bottle will explode. It is a baffling puzzle that makes her question why she even bothers to continue making the wine at all...

The result, however, is a true and honest delight. We tasted the 2013—a good year for the Languedoc and Limoux in particular, as cooler temperatures helped preserve freshness and allowed for harvest to occur up to three weeks later than normal. The wine is an almost clear, green color; it's aromas are redolent of fresh, sweet fruits. A portrait of an orchard, the wine tastes like red apple skin, green and yellow apple flesh, and ripe pears with a sweet, fresh tarragon herbal character. At 85 grams of sugar per liter, it is certainly sweet—but an unabashed delight. Compared with Blanquette and Crémant de Limoux, the Méthode Ancestrale tastes like a truly singular, incomparable wine. Tasting it, you really appreciate Francoise's headaches!

Languedoc Rosé
William Moss

Languedoc rosé wines made an unexpectedly good impression. Many were Cinsault- and Syrah-based, done in a fresh style with common notes of pink grapefruit and raspberry. In a region dominated by red wines, rosé was often served as an aperitif at restaurants, matching the seasonal tomato dishes offered throughout the region. The color is darker than the fashionable pale salmon that characterized many Provence rosés, and Languedoc rosé tends to have more body than typical Mediterranean rosés. Personally, I believe AOP rosé from Languedoc can match Tavel and Bandol in quality. With proper marketing—take a page from the playbook in Provence—and a corresponding increase in consumer awareness this could be a newly fashionable category—and a perfect summer wine to promote the whole region.

Château Fontenelles
John Freitas

On the fourth day of our trip, we were taken to a small village called Douzens in the heart of the Cathar country, some 20 minutes from Carcassonne and its famous medieval city center. Amidst a row of houses on a residential street, Château Fontenelles is almost easy to miss—did its unremarkableness aid the proprietor's mother when she hid refugees fleeing the *** during the Second World War? Thierry Tastu, representing the fifth generation of his family to inhabit the château, showed us a full range of Corbières AOP red wines, including the prestige bottling of the house, the "Moural de Salomon" 2008, an old vine Syrah blended with a touch of Carignan. Its name—moural—commemorates the paintings left behind by wartime refuges. Other wines included a rare Corbières AOP rosé, the "Cuvée Tenue de Soirée," and two other reds: the "Cuvée Renaissance" and the "Cuvée Notre Dame," both blends of Syrah, Grenache, Mourvèdre and old vine Carignan. The Carignan, here and elsewhere, was vinified by carbonic maceration—a trend in the region that lent red blends freshness.

Modern Languedoc: Large and Small (And an Unlikely Hero)
Dan Bjugstad

In the wine world we define identity through place. A strong identity builds a strong brand, as in Burgundy and Bordeaux. The Languedoc we know—a wine lake of poorly made, overripe juice—has a poor brand. Our group of American sommeliers was invited to the Languedoc as part of a campaign to rebuild the reputation of the region. In this pursuit, we tasted countless wines and spoke with numerous producers (and ate loads of duck). The following week a group from China would embark on the same tour. In an effort to rebrand, producers are employing two strategies: some producers are making exciting, boutique wines for restaurants and wine shops, while others embrace the wine lake, making cheap wines in huge quantities to line the shelves of supermarkets worldwide.

Enologist Frédéric Alcouffe, winemaker for the large cooperative Val d’Orbieu, oversees the combined production of 60 estates, 2,500 members, and 17,000 hectares of vines. Since 2009, it has tailored its winemaking styles and products exclusively to international demand. They analyze the global wine market and craft competitive wines to fill available niches. For them the greatest goal is producing quality varietal wine at the entry level. Crafting a ten-dollar Chardonnay or Cabernet Sauvignon to compete on the supermarket shelves with Australia, Chile, and Argentina is the ultimate challenge. Frédéric recalls comparing wines with another large-scale producer from Argentina. The Argentinean winemaker was unimpressed; upon learning that the wine cost ten dollars, the Argentine was even less impressed. She believed she could make a better wine at that price point, and Frédéric agreed. This encounter impressed upon him the importance of price and quality as well as the ferocity of global competition. So Frédéric works to raise quality while producing wines in line with international tastes. He soaks lightly toasted oak chips in one rosé for “body and a sensation of sugar.” He offers a defeated shrug in response to a question about acidification: under the Mediterranean sun, freshness must be achieved by any method. The wines may lack romance, but they are totally pleasant, and frankly more enjoyable than many estate wines from smaller producers in the region. Simple, fresh and drinkable, they could provide a steady supply for a high-volume restaurant or supermarket. Mastering large-scale production with the highest possible quality and lowest possible price is a matter of survival. The price-quality ratio to compete with New World counterparts is not only a business goal, but a path to sustainably maintain the massive amount of vines and producers in the Languedoc. For Frederic, Val d’Orbieu’s success is less a quest for wealth and more an attempt to avoid ruin.

On the other hand, the great challenge for ambitious smaller producers is to define great Languedoc wine.

In a restaurant filled with crying children, cigarette smoke, and more duck, we met Sabine Bertrand of Fitou's Bertrand-Berge. The quality of her wines shined through the distractions around us. Fitou is Languedoc’s oldest AOP for dry wine; it is split between a coastal sector—Fitou Maritime—and a mountainous section to the west, Fitou Montagneux (Haut Fitou). The two regions are divided by five kilometers of mountainous garrigue scrubland—but reaching one region from the other is a 40-kilometer drive. The Mediterranean meets the Pyrenees here, and Fitou Montagneux is 300 meters higher in elevation than Fitou Maritime. In the higher-elevation vineyards, rounded stones known as boulières are strewn throughout the soil. Sabine’s family, unsurprisingly, believe Fitou Montagneux has better terroir than the Maritime region. Their confidence in this terroir inspired them to leave the local cooperative in 1993 and make their own wines. A choice highlighting their dedication to high quality wine.

The wines are deep and powerful—all clock in around 15% alcohol, impressed by the heat but not imprisoned by it. They maintain a natural freshness that softens the wallop; they attack like a bear hug rather than a punch. Their “La Bouliere," a blend of Mourvèdre, Carignan, and Grenache, sees 18 months in new oak and is one of their most expensive cuvées. The most "native" of their range is “Les Megalithes"; made from 95% carignan (including some 100-year-old vines) it is a singular delight. Fermented with partial whole-cluster in concrete tanks, it is a pure expression of the grape, exhibiting layers of gravelly minerality, purple flowers, black cherry, dried herbs, and light reduction. The wine lives between Mediterranean France and Catalonia and would fit among Spanish or Southern Rhône wines on a list.

Producers like Bertrand-Berge offer a glimpse of a future definition of quality in Languedoc. Yet many small producers, even with estate wines and long family histories in viticulture, make chunky, dried-out, pruny wines, often clipped by volatile acidity or brettanomyces, with searing levels of alcohol. Work remains. And as Eric mentioned, the region has many identities—and suffers from an identity crisis because of it. The Languedoc grows all kinds of grapes, white and red, but which wines will shape their regional identity? The ubiquitous Grenache, Syrah, Mourvèdre, and Carignan blends of the region can be great wines, but will they ever stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the gluttonous and unashamed pleasures provided by Châteauneuf-du-Pape? I am not convinced altogether convinced. The unlikely hero here might be Carignan: from good sites and in good hands, it offers the most distinctive wines.

Cariñena: Guild of Sommeliers Report 2014

GuildSomm Admin — Thu, 07 Aug 2014 19:50:00 GMT

The Guild of Sommeliers sent six members to Cariñena DO/DOP in the spring of 2014 to discover this unexplored region in northeastern Spain, and report back on its wines, culture, and potential. Following is their story.

Andrew Rastello

Coming out of passing my Advanced Exam in April, I wasn’t sure my high could get much, well, higher… but days later, I received notice that I’d been awarded the travel scholarship to Cariñena. As my excitement settled in the following weeks, I began thinking about what I was hoping to take away from my international excursion. Let me be clear: I love Spanish wine. But is it what gets me out of bed in the morning? No. I generally drink whites, and if pressed to choose a Spanish red I’ll likely opt for a Bierzo or a “pretty” Rioja. I can’t say I’ve ever been excited about wines from Priorat, and as my trip approached I became nervous that I wouldn’t be able to “get” the wines of Cariñena.

What little I knew about the region was what I had read on the Guild site. Cariñena is the birthplace of this same-named red grape, more commonly known as Carignan in France. The region of Cariñena is located in the heart of the Ebro Valley in Aragón, with the Pyrenées Mountains forming a natural border with France to the north and the Calatayud DOP to the east. The vineyards range from high elevation to windswept plains, all of which experience an intense diurnal shift. Cariñena is the only wine region that has a variety named after it, and at one point this red grape dominated the region. Also known as Mazuelo or Carignan in France, it has firm (some call it unapproachable) acidity in youth and can be accompanied by very high pyrazines. “Like high-acid Carmenère? Praise glory!!” I thought. Well… not exactly, I came to learn. Growers and winemakers complain frequently that the grape is “hard to grow”…

Today, the region of Cariñena has chosen Garnacha as king. I figured this was probably done in hopes of mirroring the quick success of Priorat and the 100-point scores that Parker handed out like lollipops to some of that region’s bigger, bolder wines. Could Garnacha’s coup in Cariñena be motivated by neighbor-success-envy?

Jorge Villacorta

Created in 1932, the DO of Cariñena is among the oldest officially recognized wine regions in Spain. Vines here are planted mostly on reddish-brown, iron-rich clay soils called “royale” by the locals, producing wines with stronger mineral flavors and higher levels of acidity. Approximately half of the land belongs to Garnacha—though Cariñena is still grown here in its hometown, the grape has fallen out of favor with the locals due to its difficulty to grow, its susceptibility to disease and its very high acidity as well as stronger tannic structure. These wines must be aged for a longer period of time before they are ready for consumption—as such, they’re more costly and risky to produce than Garnacha, which produces wines that are softer in tannin and acidity.

Garnacha also reacts well to the local, arid climate due to its strong wooden trunk that resists drought. As we were to discover, the wines grown at lower elevations are fresher, more fruit-forward and easy-drinking; as the elevation begins to increase (especially in excess of 600 meters), the wines show darker fruit flavors and aromas with more spice and stronger minerality. The highest vineyards, on slopes of approximately 850 meters, allow for great sun exposure and drainage, further ripening the grapes to produce intense aromas with strong acidity and ripe, dark fruit flavors. Higher-elevation vineyards also see nighttime temperatures drop 35-40 degrees (°F), allowing the richer fruit to retain great acidity. Aside from elevation, a major contributing factor to the quality of the Garnacha planted in this region is the age of many of these vines: some are over eighty years old, producing wines with immense concentration, complexity, and great length.

Miranda Elliot

Straight from our arrival at the airport in Madrid, we took a train up through Aragón to Zaragoza, about 45 minutes northeast of Cariñena. Our first encounter with food was at the incredible Bodegón Azoque. Rows of Ibérico ham legs greeted us; they hung from rope on hooks or were already carved and resting on stands. I was ecstatic and exhausted, trying to take everything in while battling jet lag, but those gorgeous ham legs kept me alert, their marbling pristine and unlike anything I'd ever seen in the states: straight up-and-down, evenly distributed fat and muscle. Another staple we were to enjoy many times throughout the trip was sardines, simply prepared with olive oil, salt and pepper, grabbed two at a time with our fingers and eaten in one bite, like French fries. Along with lunch we were introduced to various Cariñena wines, a rosado and some tinto. We finished the meal in full Spanish lunch style with orujo de hierba, essentially a pomace spirit flavored with herbs. By that point, I was full and happy and very ready for a nap.

Our next day took us up a long, winding road high up into the Sistema Ibérico mountains, where we arrived at Bodegas Paniza, and where we began our love affair with Cariñena. While Bodegas Paniza, like most of the producers in Cariñena, is a co-op (essentially groups of locals selling their grapes to the central winery), we were struck by the high quality of fruit—something we might not ordinarily associate with a co-op. This was, for most of us, our first intimate experience with the Cariñena grape from the Cariñena region. As a grape, Cariñena tended to show more red fruit along with an underlying—but not overpowering—gaminess. In fact, my favorite food-and-wine pairing of the trip was grilled Ternasco lamb (it’s actually a PGI itself, for lamb with a certain weight and age from this region) with Cariñena: The gaminess of each complemented each other while the bright red fruit offset the meat’s richness.

Most wineries here have turned their attention toward Garnacha, as Cariñena is much more difficult to grow. But many of us agreed that Cariñena has more depth of flavor here, especially when it’s from old vines. As we were told more about the area, about how almost everyone there grows grapes for money, and about how the region has become pretty impoverished, it became clear that the switch from Cariñena to Garnacha is economically driven. Asking them to switch back to Cariñena is asking them to grow something that may taste better (to us) but that produces less quantity and therefore less income. It’s a tricky equation—and a sensitive topic—but we discussed the possibility of charging more for Cariñena: The quality is high coming from old vines, and it could be marketed as a unique grape from its ancestral home... It will be interesting to see where this region goes in the coming years as it undergoes this renovation period, modernizes its style and tries to find a new market and its own niche.

Katie Kelly

On day two of our trip, we met with Rocío, the woman in change of the export department of Bodegas Paniza. She took us to the local monastery, with its breathtaking view of Cariñena and the snow-capped Pyrenées in the distance. Although we experienced perfect weather (mid-70s Fahrenheit and bright sunshine), the area's wind is legendary. Like the Rhône’s Mistral or South Africa’s Cape Doctor, Cariñena has Cierzo, an intense wind that creates a naturally healthy environment for grape-growing. It carries just a bit of humidity that nourishes plants in scorching-hot summers, but its fierceness prevents stagnation and banishes mildew or rot.

Bodegas Panizas, originally named Virgen de la Agila, changed its name to honor the town of Paniza and its 700 inhabitants, 400 of which are members of the Bodegas Paniza grape-growing cooperative. In terms of the age of its members, this is the youngest co-op in Spain, and they’ve made a commitment to the DO of Cariñena through their time, education and money, shown off in their state-of-the-art facility. It is here that we first learned about the economic struggle of Spain, and specifically Aragón, which was financially hurt particularly hard by the Spanish Civil War, and which continues to struggle. Like many regions blessed with rich land but facing financial hardship, they use their number one resource—grapes—to sustain themselves. Put simply, Garnacha is Cariñena’s bread and butter. Make no mistake, these growers are passionate about the wines they make, but they are also definitively focused on making money from them—not out of greediness or a lack/disregard of identity, but for the viability of the region.

On day three we visited Bodegas San Valero, one of the older wineries we saw, yet considered to be the most progressive in the region. 20% of their Garnacha vines are classified as old vines, ranging from 30-100 years old. San Valero is also home to the first bottling machine acquired in Cariñena—and one of the first in Spain!—in 1962. It was a bit of a relic but still very cool to see the early stages of this region taking wine production to the next level.

We discussed the soil and the “magic” within it, and our first glimpse of this magic was a visit to a 35- to 40-year-old Macabeo vineyard. The soil was clay, with a good amount of glacial rocks on both the topsoil and in numerous layers of subsoil as well. While clay tends to have poor drainage, these rocks keep the clay loose, allowing the vine roots to dig deeper. Moving up in elevation in this vineyard, we reached the Moscatel parcels, where we started seeing much more rock in the soil. These rocks help to reflect heat, which dehydrates and concentrates the grapes, allowing Bodegas San Valero to make a lovely late-harvest Moscatel—botrytis even occurs in certain vintages. With a breathtaking, panoramic backdrop, we tasted the Bodegas San Valero’s “Particular” Chardonnay and Moscatel d’Alexandria blend, which was bone dry and deliciously crisp and refreshing—perfect for a late breakfast.

Next came visits to the Tempranillo, Garnacha and Cariñena vineyards, all of which were completely covered in jagged, flat stones called cascajos, caused by erosion from the Sistema Ibérico range. The more rounded stones in the Tempranillo parcel were uniquely identified as cantos—rounded over millennia by the flow of the Ebro River.

On our visit to Grandes Vinos Y Viñedos, we were able to learn more about how altitude variation in the DO specifically affects the wines. Starting at a 1,000-foot elevation vineyard characterized by the red “royale” soil, we progressively moved higher, noticing how the amount of heavy stone in the vineyards increased as we traveled up. At one point, we also saw vines affected by esca, the main cause of death among their vines. Topping out at 2,800 feet (850 meters) was an 85-year-old Garnacha vineyard called the Saints’ Path. Back in the cellar, five different elevation levels were noticeably reflected in five different wines. Garnacha from the lowest altitude had bright red cherry and raspberry notes with subtle tannins, while the second Garnacha expressed darker fruit aromas—more blackberry and red plum. By the third and fourth versions (from higher vineyards), more concentrated, complex fruit was apparent: notes of juicy blueberry and balsamic were prominent now, with hints of milk chocolate, a beautiful mouthfeel and tannic structure. The fifth and final Garnacha, from the highest plots, had even further complexity with strong notes of black tea and fresh herbs.

We were privileged to enjoy dinner at Casa Pedro with a special guest host: local sommelier Raúl Igual, who was twice named Best Sommelier in Spain. Igual is a native of Teruel, a region just southeast of Zaragoza, so not only was he full of information about Aragón and Cariñena, but he also had a deeply rooted connection to the cuisine and wines of the region. During dinner, he discussed just how much the Spanish Civil War debilitated the wine industry in Spain—and especially in Aragón. Many vineyards were abandoned at this time; unfortunately, the hillside vineyards, which tend to produce the most complex wines, were the first to be deserted. The people of Cariñena worked hard to resurrect these vineyards starting in the 1970s, strategically forming cooperatives to fund and sustain them. In the 1990s and 2000s, winery co-ops (still owned by a group of shareholders today) began investing in equipment and cataloging parcels of vineyard sites. After just a few days with our various hosts, it was easy to feel the strong sense of pride they had for their homeland, its vineyards, and what they’re doing to better it. The people are much like the wines they make: full of quality and potential without being full of themselves. It’s that genuine nature and that same honesty you can pick up in the wines. I’m not sure if I was drunk in love—or just a little drunk—but I was starting to get it…

We finished our trip in Madrid, ending with dinner at hotspot Hermanos García de la Navarra and a bottle of 1975 Rioja Bordón—which our sommelier expertly opened with vintage Port tongs. Our nightcap was massive gin and tonics at Terraza Cibeles, a rooftop bar overlooking the city of Madrid. It was a truly perfect end to a memorable week where I came to really understand the Cariñena region. While I wholly feel that these wines are worth sharing on their own merit, I also discovered that much of wine is about the stories and people behind it, and I’m looking forward to sharing those with my guests, too. Wine has brought civilizations together for thousands of years, and now it has brought me to Cariñena, Spain. I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Jeremy Campbell

My own conclusion at the end of this trip is that one of Cariñena’s big strengths is also a weakness: For now, they make a good quantity of wine in a modern style at very low prices. But I think they have potential to further differentiate themselves. Some of what I tasted before it was bottled was fantastic. The quality of the fruit they can come up with (particularly the older-vine Garnacha from higher elevations we sampled) is really good: rich and dark without being jammy, balanced in alcohol, herbaceous and spicy. There’s a wonderful vein of rocky minerality on the mid-palate followed by enough grape tannin to create a solid structure around which everything can come together (less oak could definitely be used, however, to preserve the purity of fruit).

As for the Cariñena grape itself, this seems like a marketing no-brainer, given that there’s almost no other single-variety examples coming from anywhere else in the world. While this grape, which is most often used as blending agent to add acidity, did have a lot of acidity, that high acid is exactly what kept me coming back for more. Up against the ripe black fruit flavors and streak of savory dried herbs with iron at the core, that acid was like a cold glass of lemonade on a summer day—so refreshing and quaffable.

By building on their great foundation in the vineyards, I have no doubt we’ll be seeing more exciting stuff reaching us from this blossoming DO.

Chris Tanghe MS

In summary, Cariñena is a region rich in history and viticulture. Arid and extremely windy, the region is also strongly influenced by altitude, and diurnal shift is a prominent feature of viticulture—not to mention a necessary one, providing freshness to these overall full-throttle styles.

Traditionally, vines were trained en vaso (bush vines), and there are many vineyards that are over 80 years old. These bush vines are dry-farmed and produce amazing fruit; however, yields are much lower, and as a result most new plantings are being swapped for trellised and irrigated systems. The majority of producers are actually co-ops, but we were very impressed with the emphasis they placed on quality, and many of them have set up extremely rigorous standards for both vineyard practices and harvested fruit quality.

We visited a number of vineyards and some awesome sites, though there is still a lot of room for experimentation. Some producers are starting to plant on north-facing slopes, for example, and it seemed that a larger number of producers than we expected were striving to make wines with more balanced alcohol. It feels particularly important, to me, for our market to express our desire for these more balanced styles in order for the region to excel in this arena—the same goes with the oak treatment. The majority of the wines that rocked me were, counter-intuitively, the entry-level selections that saw neutral barrel or stainless steel. We couldn’t help but wonder: What if the best fruit was treated the same way?

My own positive impressions went beyond an interest in their financial incentives to produce high-quality fruit. I was impressed by their strong sense of community and a drive to work together to raise the bar for their collective patch of ground and the wine produced from it. There’s no question that this region can produce stunningly high quality fruit, and the value is certainly there. I’m confident that the producers will find the right balance in the cellar, and I’m looking forward to seeing Cariñena creep onto the radar of passionate wine personalities in both the US and abroad.

All photos courtesy Jorge Villacorta.

Savoie & Switzerland: Guild of Sommeliers Report 2014

Victoria James — Wed, 16 Jul 2014 16:48:00 GMT

In June 2014, Liz Dowty (New Orleans), Ryan Totman (Corkbuzz, NYC), Victoria James (Marea, NYC) and Master Sommeliers Laura Maniec and Geoff Kruth traveled to Switzerland and the Savoie. Following is a report on the region from Victoria James.

“I’m not leaving this country until I taste some Vin de Glacier,” Liz announced.

Ryan’s eyes widened as he described this “unicorn” wine of Switzerland that we had only ever read about. From the ancient, indigenous Rèze grape and made in silly-high-altitude soleras in the Swiss Alps, this maderized wine with miniscule outputs boasts a rarity few other wines share.

But never mind Vin de Glacier, for a minute… Many American sommeliers have never tried any wine from Switzerland.

Lack of availability and marketing means that Swiss wines remain mythical and undiscovered for many outside that fair country. Little wine is produced, and what little is made very rarely crosses the Swiss border—Switzerland is so wealthy, they really needn’t push their wines into the international market; in fact, 90% remains domestically sold. Further, there isn’t a large, international PR group educating the trade and marketing the wines. Beyond that, a visit to Switzerland reveals that the Swiss seem almost secretive about their wines… perhaps for good reason—they might be too good to share.

And so our merry band of sommeliers went to find out what, exactly, the Swiss were keeping hidden. Our cohort got the opportunity to try wines that not only will never leave Switzerland but probably will no longer exist by year’s end—almost all of the wines made there are sold within the vintage, and very little is kept to age or cellar and sell as a reserve. Even in their private cellars, winemakers put aside only a few bottles from past vintages. Considering that many of the wines possess great aging potential, this might be a tragedy.

Switzerland is made up of 26 cantons, which are neatly divided into four linguistic areas: German, French, Italian and the ever-forgotten Romansh (or Romansch/Romanche). Although we flew into Zurich, we spent our trip in the western, French-speaking regions of the Valais and the Vaud, where we were occasionally welcomed with hostility towards Americans… but more often with pools of fondue and potatoes.

The Valais

Our first day was spent in the Valais region of southwestern Switzerland. Ever had a Swiss wine? It probably came from here. The region is nestled into the heart of the Alps, and the vineyards here, flanking both sides of the Rhône river (the right bank is most important), benefit from steep slopes and terraces; they are responsible for a third of the country’s production. The mountains form a rain shadow that makes the Valais Switzerland’s driest canton with just 24 inches of precipitation a year… coupled with 2,100 hours a year of sunlight. For reference, Alsace sees 20-25 inches of precipitation and 1,800 hours of sunlight annually. Indeed, some similarities in the styles of wine from Alsace and the Valais are noticeable: vibrant acidity, gobs of honeyed notes, racing minerality, white flowers and sometimes earthy/mushroomy aromas.

Cave Caloz

Our first stop (and a favorite) was at Cave Caloz near the famous ski area of Crans-Montana. Many locals just think of Chasselas (known locally as Fendant) as “skiing wine,” an aperitif after a long day on the slopes. But Cave Caloz makes not only serious Fendant but a full array of seriously good wine.

Anne-Carole and Conrad Caloz (who took over for his father, Fernand) now manage the family domaine while their eldest daughter, Sandrine, is winemaker. 2013 is Sandrine’s white-winemaking debut after years of studying under her father and at enology school.

An interesting tangent about Sandrine’s role: although Switzerland is quite liberal, very few females are in the wine industry. As the story goes, when Sandrine was born, her grandfather excitedly opened a bottle of Champagne to celebrate his successor who would one day take over the winery. Minutes later, upon learning that his grandchild was a girl, he was reported as fuming, “Do you know how hard it is to put a cork back in a Champagne bottle?” Luckily, Sandrine’s hard work and skill put his skepticism to rest, and today he—along with a legion of fans—seems impressed by her wines.

An intoxicatingly confident young woman, Sandrine won us over when she brought us to her vineyards, high above the Valais valley… and when she told us about the Brian Jonestone Massacre (a psychedelic rock group) concert she’d seen the night before. Like Burgundy, the plots of vines squeezed into neat little rows have been severely divided over time and through families. The appellation, Coteaux de Sierre, holds two distinct sites: La Mourzière and Les Bernunes. The former produces wines that are fresh with finesse and elegance, while the latter creates more age-worthy, structured wines.

Sandrine’s just-bottled 2013 Petite Arvine from the La Mourzière parcel smelled of clean, wet, alpine rocks with yellow citrus and white flowers. It’s common in the Valais to find Petite Arvine with residual sugar (it’s favored by the Swiss consumer), but Sandrine isn’t about following trends. Preferring to show off terroir and grape, she’s unapologetically crafted a completely dry Petite Arvine here. She also prevents malolactic fermentation and uses only four-year-old (or older) barrels or steel tanks.

Next up was the Johannisberg (local name for Sylvaner), which did hold some residual sugar and saw five to six hours of skin contact as well as some bâtonnage. It was silky but musty and slate-y in aroma. Cave Caloz’s Heida-Paien (Savagnin Blanc) held an incredible 11g/l of tartaric acid, which Sandrine tried to tame by stirring the lees twice a week. Then came our first Valais Fendant: slightly reductive (but in a good way) with a racy yet delicate texture and tons of honey and white flowers on the nose.

Among the Alpine reds, we found many common threads: smells of wet soil, sticky pine trees, small red berries and dark flowers. Sandrine’s Humagne Rouge held a prolific candied cherry and strawberry center, the thin-skinned grape offering little color or tannin structure but bursting with pepper and sassafras. This is an ideal wine to chill down and enjoy all summer.

The wine of the visit here was the 2012 Cornalin. Only otherwise seen in the Valle d’Aoste, Cornalin is hard to grow and very susceptible to sickness, commonly ripening unevenly or suffering from millerandage. Cornalin must be made carefully, but a well-made one like Sandrine’s seems to play a Syrah-like charade on the palate while boasting the inky color of Dolcetto. The only thing missing was a plate of wild game. There’s a reason the wines of Cave Caloz grace top restaurant lists in the U.S.: They deftly show off Switzerland’s potential.

Serge Roh

Next up, we looked at a more modern approach to the wine industry. Serge Roh, also located in the Valais, took over his family’s domaine in 2009, slowly making over the wines to give them a sleeker profile. We contrasted the domaine’s older, brown glass bottles and rustic, watercolor-illustration labeling with the modern, minimalist labels Serge employs today, and we tasted his Petite Arvine, Humagne Blanc de Vétroz, Amigne de Vétroz, Dôle de Vétroz, Cornalin de Vétroz and Amigne Grains Noble.

Vétroz is a grand cru of the Valais that’s full of calcaire and schist; it’s also arguably the most important vineyard in the region. However, it’s important to note that the “grand cru” system of the Valais isn’t comparable to, say, Burgundy in its indication of quality. In fact, we found a lot of “grand cru” wines in brasseries, sporting screw caps and barely commanding two-digit price tags. Serge agreed that the grand cru system indicates place more than it does necessary quality: As in the AOC system, regulations are placed on winemaking and viticulture, and wines must pass a blind tasting panel to assure they are typical for the cru.

Wines from Vétroz also carry sweetness indicators on the labels. The charming system uses small icons of honeybees to designate the amount of residual sugar in the wine: one bee means less than eight grams per liter; two means nine to 25; three bees indicates there’s more than 25 grams per liter of RS. Most wines are one-bee entities, although wines like Petite Arvine and Amigne de Vétroz are traditionally off-dry. Serge’s versions of the latter are packed with acidity, dry extract and concentration. If there’s a noble character to Amigne de Vétroz, it may be found in its texture, power and aging potential, which Serge believes to be around 15 years.

Serge’s Humagne Blanc de Vétroz was Sylvaner-like, carrying a steely, mineral-driven finish with notes of smoke and honey, and our first Dôle (a traditional blend of at least 85% Pinot Noir and Gamay with 15% other local varieites) was notably pleasant: a glass of wild blackberries and purple flowers, reminding me of a soft Schiava I’d enjoy slightly chilled on a summer night.

Finally, sweet wines are a specialty of Vétroz, and with the honeybees quickly multiplying on the label, we wrapped up with Serge’s 2012 Amigne de Grains Noble. Showing off 90 grams of residual sugar, sipping from this slightly botrytized bottle was like dipping into a saffron-infused honey pot.

Vétroz

Cave du Vieux-Moulin

Our last tasting in the Valais was with Cave du Vieux-Moulin and third-generation winemaker Romain Papilloud. Among the usual suspects of the Vétroz, we also sampled the Carminoir—a Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir Crossing made by just three producers in the Valais—that showed the fruit of Pinot Noir with the vegetal notes of Cabernet Sauvignon. There was also an “Ermitage” sec (Marsanne), a bit neutral with apple blossom notes and a round palate, and a 2010 “Volupté” Ermitage Grain Nobles that was definitely voluptuous and filled with aromas of white truffle, sour cream and a note that one of us may have described as a “honey-covered rubber glove.”

My own favorites were the traditional Amigne de Vétroz and a Fendant called “Amandoleyre” (after the almond trees that were once planted here), which was pristine and almost sake-like—perhaps the best version of Chasselas we tasted. As we departed, Romain (perhaps charmed by our broken French?) gave us some of his last remaining older bottles of Amigne de Vétroz—2007 and 2008, which were practically ancient by Swiss standards. We opened them later that night, and while the 2007 had sadly started to oxidize, the 2008 was opposite: heartbreaking and memorable because we knew at that moment we must have been the only people in the country drinking a Swiss wine that good… or that old.

The Vaud

Unlike the Valais, which, to its own detriment might have too many "specialties," the focus of the Vaud is solely Chasselas. In 2009 it was proven that this canton, resting on the shores of Lake Geneva, is the actual birthplace of the grape. Once historically referred to as "Dorin" here, it now goes by its more familiar synonym. This was brought to our attention on our first visit with "Le Roi de Chasselas."

Pierre-Luc Leyvraz

“The King,” as he was deemed not long ago by local Swiss press, is an accurate title. Pierre-Luc Leyvraz makes wine alongside his lovely wife, a well-travelled dictation teacher who has a soft spot for New Orleans music and culture.

Pierre-Luc took over the family domaine took from his father, who started making wine in the 1950s after inheriting the family’s vineyards. His uncle had inherited the farm, and at first Pierre-Luc’s father was upset since the farm was, at the time, a much larger source of profit. Today, however, the Leyvraz wines from the grand cru of Saint-Saphorin are some of the most sought-after bottles of Chasselas.

Saint-Saphorin has one of the steepest slopes in the Vaud, with calcaire-dominant soils, and the vines are planted at a high density so there is constant competition for nutrients and survival. We tasted through a vertical of Pierre-Luc’s wines, starting with 2013 and going back to 2007, while he reminded us that he had only a couple bottles left of these older wines. We were grateful, as these were Chasselas at its best. Some describe the grape as neutral, lacking obvious fruit or earth characteristics, but the Leyvraz Chasselas demonstrates a feeling that the depth lies in what you cannot see; the wines are overwhelmingly pure.

While Chasselas is less aromatic and more of a phenolic grape, it develops differently with age. Its faint honey and floral aromas blossom into an almost heady bouquet with just a few years in bottle. Made in a reductive style, his 2013 was lean with some residual carbon dioxide. Gradually, as we tasted back in time, the wines became rounder, like a Grüner Veltliner; I felt that after two to three years they became optimum for drinking. At seven years old, the 2007 had become naturally calibrated, showing a mature vibrancy.

Pierre-Luc also makes wine in another Vaud grand cru, that of Dézaley, where he rents a small plot of vineyards (no one wants to sell their coveted plots). Due to the cru’s denser, more clay-dominated soils, the Chasselas here tends toward more aromatics, concentration and a broad, rich texture.

Luc Massy

No one knows more about Dézaley than Luc Massy, whom we visited next. In 1915 his family started making wine after a history in the watch business. While Leyvraz specialized in a more reductive style to highlight the purity of the Chasselas grape, Massy crafts a richer, rounder, more oxidative style that can age for decades. Not only did we taste the oldest Swiss wine of our trip here, but Luc also mentioned that he recently drank a 1934 Dézaley—and that it was “exceptionnel!”

Luc owns the only “clos” in Lavaux, the 1.7-hectare “Clos du Boux,” which sits on the edge of his winery. We picked some of the best cherries we’d ever tasted from trees that grew alongside that property, peering over the piercingly blue Lac Léman (Lake Geneva). Deemed a UNESCO world heritage site in 2007, the region has almost painfully beautiful scenery, which the wines of the region somehow seem to capture.

Twenty years ago, in order to protect the quality of Dézaley, a group of 12 producers formed “La Baronnie du Dézaley.” This group created separate rules beyond those of the grand cru, enforcing lower yields, designated picking dates, a later bottle release, lower alcohol and the use of natural cork (to enhance aging).

Luc’s 2002 Clos du Boux proved that Chasselas is not just a “skiing wine” meant to consume in its youth. The vintage, Luc explained, was similar to 2013 but with better yields. There was a wet spring and hot summer with large diurnal temperature swings, and the result was a wine rich with dry extract but also high acidity. The glass exuded honeyed apricots, brioche, sour cream, mushroomy earth notes and golden hues.

Dézaley

Louis Bovard

We dug a little deeper into Dézaley and the Lavaux on our next visit with Luc Massy’s cousin, Louis Bovard. He met us on the shores of Lac Léman and pointed to the steep slope of the far bank where the grand crus of Epesses, Dézaley and Saint-Saphorin stood before us (in order from west to east). The hill is mostly planted to Chasselas and is probably the world’s most ideal place for the grape as the clay soils retain rain water before it can run down the slopes, and the sun grills the vines to create a generous style of wine. The lake also moderates the climate, lending a long maturation period with no frosts and moderate summers.

Louis is the 10th generation of Bovards and currently owns 16 hectares—70% of which are dedicated to Chasselas. As an aside, Louis also has one of the oddest wine labels in Switzerland: At first glance, one might think it boasts a strange man dressed in a wild, cheetah-print dress. But no, instead it is an image of Albert Bovard, who was cast as Bacchus at the 1905 winegrower’s festival in Vevey… today, the image remains an icon in the Vaud.

Louis pays homage to his family’s long history in the region by working with native varieties while also experimenting with other grapes such as Chenin and Sauvignon Blanc. The latter is fermented in small barrels and exudes a Didier Dagueneau style while hailing from the Grand Cru of Epesses, while the former is named “Salix” (for the native willow trees) and comes from St. Saphorin.

Our last night in Switzerland, we ate at one of those fabulous, comes-with-a-view, Michelin-starred restaurants…

"This is our chance," Liz and I said to one another, eyeing the sommelier. "Excuse me, do you have any Vin de Glacier?"

One of the best restaurants in the country seemed like a sure bet. And yet, to our dismay, the sommelier had never even heard of it. We finally had to face the wine’s existence only in fables and leave Switzerland without ever having tasted the rumored Vin de Glacier. Alas. Maybe it was all of the beautiful Chasselas, or the compelling tastes of Cornalin and Amigne de Vétroz, but we didn’t feel defeated. We left knowing that we had found our Switzerland “savoir-boire.”

The Savoie

The Jura has enjoyed a trendy phase in the spotlight, but sommeliers seem to have (for the moment, at least) forgotten to look further south to the Savoie. Some of the varieties are slightly familiar, but the region also offers us some new friends: Altesse/Roussette, Roussanne (known locally as Bergeron) and Jacquère are used for whites, while Mondeuse, Pinot Noir, Gamay and Persan make up the reds.

Louis Magnin

Louis and Béatrice Magnin are a Savoie power couple. It was Béatrice’s domineering personality—booming voice, short blond hair and deeply tanned skin underneath a pink tank top and jeans—yet fierce sense of hospitality that welcomed us into their winery while her husband smiled and sat back. Béatrice gets all of her sun working in the vineyards because, as she says, “Better my husband stays in the winery, where he just watches and doesn’t touch anything.” She smiles at Louis and continues to pick fights while he relaxes, smiling as well, thoroughly enjoying the sport.

Their “Midwestern living room” (as Ryan described the winery), was the perfect backdrop as we tasted through their wines, starting with the Roussettes: one from old and one from young vines. Both were persistent in their minerality, with aromas of beeswax, yellow apples and honey. Bâtonnage gave the wines a fitting oiliness across the palate along with immediate richness. We also tasted a late-harvest Roussette labeled “Opulence,” which was only too fitting considering the wine held 27 grams of residual sugar and a wealth of raisinated fruit characteristics.

The next wines hailed from the cru of Chignin and the Bergeron grape. Something of a Cyrano de Bergerac of the wine world, Roussanne here is often forgotten alongside representations from the Rhône and further south, but this wine gives depth to Roussanne’s pretty face. No oak is used on their Chignin-Bergeron, and the angular body feels like someone is jabbing you with their elbow, reminding you to pay attention.

The Magnins believe in a non-interventionist approach to winemaking, so that in some years (such as 2010), if the wine decides to stop fermentation before all of the sugar is converted to alcohol, the final wine is left with definite RS; in others, such as 2011, the wine is steely and dry.

We also discovered, as Béatrice force-fed us local cheese and salumi alongside her 2000 Grand Orgue (named after a Grand Organ), that Chignin-Bergeron becomes an entirely different beast as it ages. The wine, although showing its age with some oxidation, had not tired; its texture held up well, with a sleek entrance but gripping finish.

The Magnin reds are not for the faint of heart, all of them sharing a common sauvage thread with gamey meats and occasional barnyard notes. For me, these wines were perfect examples of laissez-faire winemaking and Louis and Béatrice’s desire to allow the wines to do their own thing. When it comes to the Mondeuse grape, this can be a powerful thing. Thought to be either a grandparent or half-sibling of Syrah, Mondeuse holds an inky black color and vivid aromatics.

Their 2011 Mondeuse was dark, sweaty and animalistic, while the 2010 “La Rouge” Mondeuse (from a clay-dominated parcel) was a touch prettier, full of violets, black fruits and menthol. Another label, their “Tout un Monde” Mondeuse (Monde → Mondeuse… clever?), is more concentrated and tannic, coming from century-old vines and four years’ rest in larger barrels. If you want to cellar a Mondeuse, this would be the one.

At last, one of the final wines we tasted seemed to be an ode to Béatrice: Brauva Mondeuse is a rebel wine—from a barrel that seemed to “do its own thing” and become its own, different wine. Its name is a reference to a similarly fierce, strong female character from a French comic book series.

Chignin

Jean-Francois Quénard

From the Magnins, we headed onto a softer family affair at the Jean-Francois Quénard winery. As we drove over, there were signs everywhere for many different Quénards, and when we finally found Jean-Francois, he explained that there are three generations of Quénard cousins in the Savoie, all eager to make their own wine (all in different styles). Today, Jean-Francois owns 18 hectares and has been making his own wine since 1987, when he returned from studying in Dijon and took over from his father; he makes very clean, precise wines in a slightly reductive manner that displays fresh fruit but also the purity of the area’s unique grapes.

We began with the Jacquère grape which, like Chasselas, can sometimes be mistaken as neutral, its lightly floral and wet rock aromas easily missed if you’re not paying attention. Jean-Francois’s 2013 Chignin “Verles Alpes” is a good introduction to Jacquère—like drinking water from a babbling brook—but a favorite was the 2013 Chignin “Anne de la Biguerne,” named after the original proprietor of the estate and made from 65-year-old vines grown on chalk and limestone soils. Two months of lees stirring gives the wine an immediate richness and a rounder, serious character. While it might be the most expensive Jacquère you’ll ever encounter, it’s also likely the most expressive.

Jean-Francois also makes some Roussette, Chignin-Bergeron, Mondeuse, Persan and a rosé. Among these, the unique Persan stood out. An ancient grape of the region, Persan is now being replanted. It was once thought to be a mutation of Burgundian Pinot Noir due to its thin skins and juicy, red fruit character. Quénard’s pours out with a pale red hue and gives up candied fruit qualities that reminded us a bit of Beaujolais Nouveau.

The wines of the Savoie are decidedly “French,” although the region is just a few hours from Switzerland, and the wines indeed share many traits with their neighbors. Multiple varieties see plantings in both regions, while others are related ancestrally. Over time, these areas have developed into skiing areas that entertain tourists and travellers in waves, and in order to accommodate guests and the local palate, crisp and refreshing wines are made for immediate consumption. On top of that, a cuisine rich with Gruyère fondues, morels and herbs calls on Chasselas and Chignin-Bergeron for acidity that cleans the palate.

Most interestingly to me, Switzerland and the Savoie hold a commitment to tradition. These wine regions don’t seem to care much about what the rest of the world is doing. Ancient varieties are held onto with respect and reverence, made into the best wine possible that is most expressive of the grape. Wineries are passed down through the generations with a sense of respect for the practices established before them, and while innovation and experimentation is alive and well, these vibrant regions first pay homage to their own unique histories.

Italy Video Series

GuildSomm Admin — Mon, 10 Mar 2014 18:47:39 GMT

We have posted these individually in the forums, but here are our recent documentaries on three regions of Italy. Keep an eye out for a French series around the end of the year.

https://vimeo.com/88372900

https://vimeo.com/87250296

https://vimeo.com/87745403

Guild of Sommeliers Chile Report 2013

GuildSomm Admin — Fri, 24 Jan 2014 17:52:00 GMT

In the fall of 2013, several Guild sommeliers accompanied Fred Dexheimer MS on a trip to Chile, sponsored by Wines of Chile. Following are their observations about Chilean wines and wine culture today.

Overall Impressions

By Julie Dalton

When I first learned that I had earned this trip to Chile, I felt almost guilty because I originally thought that there would be so many people who would have a more interesting time than I would. I didn’t really work with any wines from Chile and, in fact, I didn’t really think that highly of them. Even though I enjoyed some of the wines presented at the tasting, lecture and exam through which I won the trip, I wasn’t exactly eagerly anticipating the visit to Chile.

Well. I am happy to report that after seven days in Chile visiting 11 properties and meeting 13 different producers, I have a much greater respect for this country and what they’re doing—as well as very high hopes for where they’re going.

It’s easy to get caught up in the ‘Old World is better’ mindset. It’s almost cool for some sommeliers to hate on the New World because, as we learn to be better sommeliers, we have learned to look for (and hopefully appreciate) those subtle nuances that a whispering wine brings. What we often forget is that, as sommeliers, our first job is to sell wine and to be hospitable to our guests. In my market, most of my guests want a fruit-forward wine from either California or South America that doesn’t carry a Napa Valley price tag. I think both they (and we) need to be reminded that Chile can often offer that perfect sweet spot.

Almost every single producer we visited wanted to know our honest thoughts about their wines. “No B.S.,” they would say. Many of the producers showcased their wines with food. They were all so incredibly generous with their time, their wines, their knowledge, and with sharing their hopes. They were all very eager to hear our feedback, and they solicited our advice on how to make Chilean wine a more respected player in the US market.

I left with a huge overall respect for the diversity of Chile’s meso- and micro-climates—and therefore the diversity of the grapes with which they can make wine. These winemakers are learning that what works for Merlot doesn’t work for Carmenère, and what works for Sauvignon Blanc doesn’t work for Chardonnay. Much of what they’ve learned came only in the past two decades. But they’ve come so far in such a very short time… I can only imagine what lies ahead.

Also, you’ll never see bluer skies in your life. The stark contrast of the vibrant, cloudless azure sky against the monstrous, brooding presence of the Andes is sure to make anyone welcome that moment when the clock seems to stop, and nature forces them to slow down and appreciate the panorama of beauty that exists here.

Terraced Cabernet Sauvignon vineyards at Vina Ventisquero’s Roblería de Apalta estate

Kappa Pisco

By Julie Dalton

We began our tasting tour of Chile with a Pisco flight from Kappa—born of the high pedigree of Grand Marnier and Casa Lapostolle. Charles de Bournet Marnier Lapostolle (whose parents began Casa Lapostolle) represents the seventh generation of the family that began Grand Marnier in France. True to Cognac tradition, Kappa Pisco is distilled twice in an alembic still.

Kappa uses only Muscat grapes (Alexandria and Rosado) from the Atacama and Coquimbo regions. Charles poured us six different distillates from single vineyards and then the blended final product. It was truly astonishing to taste: even distillates could express terroir! They were all completely different. Some of us liked some of the single-vineyard distillates better than the final assemblage, but as in any blended product, supply limits a single-vineyard product. We tasted two Muscat of Alexandria distillates, one from Elqui and one from Limarí. The other four in the flight were from Muscat Rosado, two from Elqui and two from Limarí. They were all delicious and remarkably unique, and as we thereafter tasted a Pisco Sour every chance we got, we quickly learned: There is no comparison to Kappa.

Master Sommelier Fred Dexheimer, our Chilean Ambassador, told us there is no astronomical beauty on Earth more brilliant as that found in the skies above the Elqui Valley. It is here that you’ll find the Southern Cross constellation, and specifically the Kappa Crucis star cluster. These stars overlook the vineyards in Elqui and Limarí and were the inspiration for the namesake of Kappa Pisco.

P.S. The perfect Kappa Sour combines 2 oz Kappa Pisco, 1 egg white, 1 oz fresh lime juice, and 1 oz gomme. It’s important to dry-shake the egg white to a perfect, frothy consistency before adding the remainder of the ingredients with ice. Then shake, strain, and add Angostura bitters on top of the egg froth. Delicious. We drank a lot of these. And then played wine charades. You know, stuff only wine geeks do.

Montes

By Julie Dalton

As we drove up to the Montes property, we were greeted by 90-year-old Cabernet Sauvignon vines, the morning fog, and two huge banners telling the world that Montes was celebrating their 25th anniversary. The Apalta winery was built in 2004 and was wholly designed with the feng shui philosophy. It was a very "Zen" place to be and, of course, everyone was so welcoming!

Winemaker Jorge Gutierrez (a.k.a. The Big Chilean!) and export manager Dennis Murray immediately greeted us, and our visit began with a tour of the hillside Apalta vineyards. We went by truck… the bed of which held us, seated on park benches bolted to the bed (see below)! It was like a roller coaster at times driving up and down such steep hills! Some of the vineyards in Apalta were so steep it reminded me of the Mosel Valley. The views of the valley were astonishing, as was seeing (and feeling) the different microclimates.

After the lovely tour of the vineyards, we moved into the winery where Jorge led us through a tasting. My overall impression of the Montes wines is that THESE are what my guests are looking for. I found the Montes Alpha lineup and the Icon Wines (Montes Alpha "M," "Folly" Syrah and "Purple Angel" Carmenère) to be particularly tannic and HUGE, delivering the concentration that many of my guests desire—and at a very affordable price.

Part of the lineup was the 1990 Montes Alpha Cabernet Sauvignon—their third vintage of this bottling. It was definitely approaching decline as most of the notes were tertiary, but stewy, dried, dusty red fruit was also still hanging on. Notes of leather and tomato leaf dominated, yet it was an incredibly contemplative experience to be allowed inside the evolution of such a wine.

The wines that captured my heart this trip, however, were from Montes’ relatively new line called Outer Limits. They make a Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir from the extremely foggy and windy Zapallar Vineyard in Aconcagua. This vineyard is located around 112 miles northwest of Santiago and just four miles from the Pacific Coast. Call it the Carneros of Chile. Lots of fog, absolute summer highs are near 75° Fahrenheit while lows average just 54, and the soils are granite and clay. Montes is the only one who has planted vineyards here.

We started with the 2013 Sauvignon Blanc, which was round, juicy and tropical—my favorite Sauvignon Blanc of the trip, for sure. I found so many Chilean Sauvignons to be incredibly aggressive and domineering, while this one was a whisperer and quite alluring. The 2011 Pinot Noir was exquisite as well: super floral and high-toned, full of clean white button mushrooms and a beautiful, silky texture. The wine spent only 13 months in 30% new French oak, leaving a gorgeous balance and the most delicate Pinot Noir I’ve ever had from Chile.

Then came my “wine of the trip”: the 2012 CGM (50% Carignan, 30% Grenache, 20% Mourvèdre). Believing that Carignan doesn’t produce very tasty fruit until the vines are quite old, Montes grafted 17-year-old Carignan vines onto Cabernet Sauvignon roots to make fruit for this wine. The wine saw 12 months in less than 30% new French oak, but I didn’t notice the oak at all. The wild iris, black pepper and strawberry notes in this wine were utterly captivating, and the acidity made it just dance across the palate. This was a truly delicious, gorgeous, honest wine that simply brought a huge smile to all of our faces… and it was a very sad moment when the bottle was empty.

Casa Lapostolle

By Julie Dalton

After our morning with Montes, we went down the street to Casa Lapostolle’s Apalta facility where their flagship wine, Clos Apalta, is made. Some parts of the final blends of the "Cuvée Alexandre" projects are vinified here, but by and large, this 100% gravity-fed, six-story winery is dedicated to Clos Apalta.

Casa Lapostolle was founded in 1994 by Alexandra Marnier Lapostolle (of France’s Grand Marnier) and her husband Cyril de Bournet. Alexandra was looking for a project in the New World, and with the help of Michel Rolland, she decided Colchagua was the place for Casa Lapostolle. She fell in love with the naturally low-yielding, dry-farmed old vines on the hillsides of Apalta valley, and it is those vines that produce the fruit that eventually becomes Clos Apalta. Always a blend dominated by Carmenère, Clos Apalta has been a labor of love since its inaugural vintage in 1997. The clusters are manually sorted and de-stemmed by a group of 80 women because, they say, “women are better at multi-tasking.” The berries are pressed and everything is gravity fed from there.

After a lovely luncheon (that included Kappa Sours and seeing the largest hummingbird we'd ever seen!) we had a tour of the facility with our host Julien Berthelot, followed by a tasting of wines with Maria Angélica Carrasco, Casa Lapostolle’s Executive Sommelier. We tasted through some of the "Cuvée Alexandre" wines, including the 2011 Carmenère and Cabernet Sauvignon, the 2010 Syrah (massive structure for a Syrah!) and the 2010 "Borobo" (blend of Carmenère, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah and Pinot Noir). Then came a special treat: the 1999 "Cuvée Alexandre" Cabernet Sauvignon. This wine was showing classic Bordelaise notes, including cassis, mint, gravel and coffee bean; but the Chilean signature tomato leaf note was there as well. It was quite intensely tannic on the palate despite its 14 years. It will be interesting to see this wine with more time. Our tasting concluded with the 2010 Clos Apalta, and with it came a moment of silence as we marveled at its richness and balance.

The 1997 inaugural vintage of Clos Apalta

Don Melchor: The Icon

By Gordana Josovic

Chances are, the first Chilean wine you ever tasted was from Concha y Toro. I tasted my first "Castillero del Diablo" some time in the 1990s and almost didn’t want to admit that a wine of that price level could taste quite that good. My perspective and my familiarity with Chilean wines have changed a lot, especially after this fantastic trip.

The perfect start for our tour of wineries was indeed Concha y Toro. After exploring the surrounding vineyards, and trekking to the "Castillero del Diablo" wine cellar, we were treated to a tasting at the Pirque Manor House, an outstanding property founded in 1883 alongside the winery in Maipo Valley. Its influence is clearly French, from the architecture to the grape varieties that were imported at the time of its inception. Concha y Toro is Chile’s largest producer and exporter as well as one of the world’s great wine brands—but don’t hold that against them. "Don Melchor" (named after the winery’s founder), is the real gem in their portfolio, yet stands amid so many other good wines that it would take too long to mention all of them; the "Marques de Casa Concha" line of wines was exceptionally good.

The "Don Melchor" tasting was led by the charismatic Enrique Tirado, who has made the wine since 1999. "Don Melchor" was Chile’s first “icon” wine, with 23 vintages under its belt today. The vineyard is located in Puente Alto at 650 meters above sea level in the Alto Maipo Valley, and is home to self-rooted vines that are over 20 years old, planted in the phylloxera-free, alluvial soils.

The 1999 "Don Melchor" is like Chanel’s little black dress; it’s a classic beauty that shows lots of nuances. It could easily be mistaken for a great Bordeaux because of the classically styled core and its earthiness, but the fruit is definitively Chilean. It’s elegant and supple and shows extraordinary ageability. Tasting this wine clearly demonstrated to me the potential and soul that it embodies.

The 2009 "Don Melchor" is fleshier, showing a more seductive style at this age yet with lots of complexity, finesse and pedigree. It will only get more gorgeous with time. Both vintages are blended with a little Cabernet Franc that express its perfume along with purple, lean fruit in the best possible way. It has a good 15 years of drinking ahead of it, and I can only hope I will be able to taste its development over the years.

Ventisquero: The Contemporary

By Gordana Josovic

The view from the Fundo Roblería is breathtaking. We were about a two-hour drive away from Santiago, at an elevation of 500 meters, and the serene atmosphere and spring air were intoxicating. This is the Estate property of Viña Ventisquero (ventisquero is an old Spanish word for “glacier”), which is one of the six wineries allowed to grow grapes up the hillsides there in Apalta Valley, a horseshoe-shaped northern subzone of the Colchagua Valley. The area is highly prized for its southern exposure and a climate that occupies a middle ground between California and Bordeaux.

This is a modern and relatively new winery, founded in 1998 in the Maipo Valley; today Viña Ventisquero also owns properties in Casablanca and Leyda. They use lighter bottles to reduce their carbon footprint and, as a part of their commitment to the local community, they’ve allowed the inmates from the Santa Cruz Penitentiary Centre to work the 2013 harvest. This is the first agreement of that kind between a winery and the Chilean prison system.

The winery hired now-famous terroir consultant Dr. Pedro Parra to help them match their soils with ideal rootstock (the first winemaker to support him was Concha y Toro’s aforementioned Enrique Tirado, an old friend of Marcelo Retamal of De Martino). We got to experience his work firsthand, and it was the closest encounter with the subsoil I’ve ever had; standing in a seven-feet-deep trench that exposed the root system of the Syrah vine, digging through granitic bedrock mixed with layers of clay.

I enjoyed the whole lineup we tasted with winemaker Alejandro Galaz. The standout for me was the 2011 “Grey” Carmenère from a single block of the Trinidad vineyard in Maipo Valley. It showed off smoked meat, pepper, paprika, coriander, cocoa, black fruit, violets, a full-bodied core with focused acidity and a stylish personality. The 2009 “Pangea” Syrah and 2009 “Vertice” (a blend of Carmenère and Syrah, made by chief winemaker Felipe Tosso and John Duval) both have generous Apalta flesh, concentrated spice, polished tannins and a proud expression of the creativity of both winemakers.

I liked the 2010 “Enclave” Cabernet Sauvignon blend from Pirque in Maipo Valley made by the same team, showing Bordeaux elegance and classical structure with balanced black fruit. The lineup also included 2012 Pinot Noir from Leyda, which reminds me of the Russian River style, and 2011 “Herú” Pinot Noir from Casablanca—more Sonoma Coast-like, with lots of crushed granite undertones.

What we experienced were great examples of the present state of many Chilean wineries. These “glaciers” are running deep and steady into the bright future.

De Martino: The Visionary

By Gordana Josovic

And then came Marcelo Retamal.

Our group of six sommeliers from across the US sat at a crowded bar in Santiago, and thanks to Fred Dexheimer’s magic, we got to pick the brain of one of—if not the most—exciting winemakers of Chile, Marcelo Retamal of De Martino winery.

Not that there weren’t some extremely interesting facts about these wines, but at this table the tasting notes were not being taken, the tech sheet questions were not being asked. It was just a group of excited and appreciative somms absorbing the experience, breathing in the wisdom and talent of “El Doctor” (as Retamal is known in Chilean wine circles).

The Doctor bottled the first-ever Carmenère in Chile. He’s at the forefront of biodynamic winemaking. He’s in a relentless pursuit for the best terroirs from Elqui to Itata. And he loves Iron Maiden. The stories of his travels—tasting with Aubert de Villaine among many others—are just a backdrop for the philosophy of this really innovative and deeply thoughtful winemaker.

The wines he brought for us were as different, unique and honest as Retamal himself. His winemaking style was a bit unexpected for me because the fruit is very restrained and rustic at the same time. The wines have a polished texture and a very expressive character; they are a true definition of my favorite mantra: “Less is more.” Here’s a rundown of tasting notes:

Viejas Tinajas Cinsault 2013: Old-vine Cinsault. This varietal has been rediscovered in cool Itata. It’s dry-farmed, made in old clay jars (the eponymous viejas tinajas), with slight carbonic maceration. Delicate but revealing and a standout among all other Chilean red wines I’ve tasted.
Quebrada Seca Chardonnay 2011: Extremely fresh and precise, Quebrada Seca is the named, single-vineyard Chardonnay from Limarí, and it reminds me of Burgundy. This will grow to mirror a Premier Cru with time, but it still proudly shows its unique personality.
Limavida Old Bush Vines 2011: A true terroir wine of Maule, this is a field blend of Malbec, Carmenère, Carignan and Tannat filled with rustic, intense, minerally, purple fruit and roasted rosemary.

The common thread with all three wines is an extraordinary elegance, a purity of soil, a balanced and focused acidity and a beautiful texture. These wines are enjoyable and interesting with complex layers that provoke your curiosity; and, just like our conversation with Marcelo Retamal, they keep you motivated and inspired to discover more, to visit them again and again.

Casa Silva: The Carmenère Specialist

By Christopher Birnie-Visscher

Arriving at Casa Silva within San Fernando, I was reminded of an old 19th-century Midwest ranch. The property, which was once the family home, now consists of a boutique hotel, polo field and professional Chilean rodeo! My fellow sommeliers and I were eager to play… but unfortunately we were unable to find any competition.

Casa Silva’s roots go back to 1892, when Emilio Bouchon founded this property. For most of the 20th century, the majority of the grapes were sold to bulk wineries. In 1997, all of this changed when Mario Silva decided to produce estate wines.

Casa Silva is the Carmenère specialist within Chile. They are the only producer who sells more Carmenère then Cabernet Sauvignon. In 2002, Casa Silva began studying Carmenère, hoping to find its best expression. They observed numerous variables, including where it grew, aspect, how it ripened and a micro-soil study. Following their studies, a clonal study project began, including 65 clones within the Los Lingues vineyard, intended to find the best vines and create a clonal selection system. From 65 clones, three were selected. Now, Casa Silva hopes to have its own clone in the near future.

Casa Silva believes in harvesting their Carmenère in mid- to late April—two to three weeks earlier then other wineries, believing that Carmenère lacks overall acidity, and picking later will only adversely affect the grape.

Tasting through the lineups, my favorite was their 2012 Sauvignon Gris. Made from 100-year-old vines, this wine showcased flavors of tart apple, pistachio, almond and lemongrass.

After our visit with Casa Silva, I found it extremely fascinating how many different views there were on Carmenère. Each winery has its own philosophy on how to ripen this unique grape and when to pick it. My perception was that, when the grape was initially discovered in Chile, it was viewed as the red-headed stepchild. However, as demonstrated at Casa Silva, with the amount of money and research being spent on it today, this view has dissipated entirely. I am extremely excited to see where Chilean Carmenère will be 10 years from now.

Veramonte – Casablanca Valley

By Christopher Birnie-Visscher

On Friday morning, we departed from the Maipo Valley and made our way to Casablanca. There was a significant drop in temperature as we came into closer proximity of the Pacific Ocean. Fog plays a huge role within the Casablanca Valley, and we were fortunate enough to see the visual difference between it and the Central Valley. While in the Central Valley, the fog would burn off between 9:30 and 10:00 AM, leading to clear sunny skies. The temperature would also climb significantly during this time. Contrast that to what we found in Casablanca: fog and overcast skies would linger until 2:00 PM before leading to partly sunny skies. I had an "ah-ha" moment and finally, truly, understood why certain varieties grow in specific areas.

Arriving at Veramonte, we were greeted by current winemaker Rodrigo Soto. Rodrigo, originally from Chile, joined Veramonte in 2011. Previously, he was the head winemaker for six years at Benzinger Winery in Sonoma. Rodrigo led us through a detailed tasting and discussion, including wines from their entire portfolio.

The 2012 "Ritual" Pinot Noir was, for me, the highlight of the entire tasting: bright, fresh, with jammy red fruits and plenty of oak. This wine had all the characteristics of Pinot Noir from the Central Coast of California, without the price tag—it wholesales for about $15.00 in the US.

Neyen was founded in 2002 within Apalta; this distinguished wine is made of Carmenère and Cabernet Sauvignon, and it became part of the Veramonte family in 2011. The vines date back to the 1890s and are pre-phylloxera cuttings imported from Bordeaux. Rodrigo poured four different vintages, 2008 through 2011. Patrick Valette (current winemaker at VIK) crafted the first three vintages we tasted, and these three all displayed “Old World” hallmarks (the 2009 vintage also suffered from an abundance of brettanomyces). The 2011 was Rodrigo’s first and a personal favorite of mine as I felt I was tasting a sense of place.

Rodrigo mentioned throughout our discussion that he is trying to “create a brand for Chile.” He worried that people may view Chilean wine as cheap, and he expressed a desire to help change this perception. My views are that Veramonte wines are value-driven and delicious; I left there having found a new respect for Rodrigo Soto and Veramonte Winery.

Veramonte's Sauvignon Blanc

Santa Rita

By Peter Bothwell

Santa Rita is a serene, tree-lined property located in the Alto Jahuel region of the Maipo Valley. It was founded in 1880 by Domingo Fernandez Concha, a historic Chilean politician, and is recognized as the oldest winery in Chile. Their 100+ acres of land are home to their main facilities, which includes a quaint 16-room hotel and a neo-gothic chapel with Sistine roots. The ambiance made me feel like I’d been transported to a southern plantation during the revolutionary era.

With over 25 different wines and eight winemakers, Santa Rita is a prolific winemaking machine. We were fortunate enough to sit down with one of their two Chief Winemakers, Cecilia Torres, for a tasting of nine wines. Cecilia is a warm, humble woman but has a spunk that demands your attention when she talks about the wines. She spoke proudly of her studies of Agronomy and Enology as well as her harvest work at Clos Du Val and Penfolds.

Medella Real may only be considered the middle tier label in Santa Rita’s lineup, but these wines really stood out. The Medella Real 2012 Chardonnay from Leyda Valley was very ripe but had surprisingly great acidity. Leyda is in the Cordillera de la Costa area, but its location further away from the Andes allows for a greater marine influence on the vineyards. The Medella Real 2010 Cabernet Sauvignon from Maipo was velvety and smoky with fine, grainy tannins. It was one of the most restrained as well as one of the prettier Cabernet wines of the trip.

As was discussed throughout the week, Carmenère is extremely hard to ripen and is often the last grape to be picked. Cecilia made a significant point of mentioning that their team asks each year how they are going to grow and ripen Carmenère, rather than make Carmenère, and that canopy management is more important with this grape than with any other. The long, hot and dry summers of the Colchagua Valley certainly help the process. The Medella Real 2009 Carmenère from Colchagua was a testament to the Santa Rita team doing great work growing this tough variety. The texture of Carmenère at its best is silky, and the under-ripe, pungent green pepper aromas turn into great savory spices like cumin, turmeric and chili powder. The Medella Real had all of these qualities working at a price-point around $15 wholesale.

The “icon” wines of Santa Rita, the Casa Real 2010 (100% Cab Sauv) and the Pehuén 2007 (100% Carmenère), were certainly polished with amazingly balanced structure, but my top wine of the tasting was the 2008 "Triple C," a blend of 65% Cabernet Franc, 30% Cabernet Sauvignon and 5% Carmenère. Cabernets Sauvignon and Franc come from Maipo while the small percentage of Carmenère comes from the Apalta Valley—all 80+ year-old vines. The wine had a fresh profile with herbal aromatics.

What I most liked discovering about Chile is that, as a winemaking country, it has quality offerings for all aspects of your wine program. Santa Rita fit that mold perfectly. If you need to hit a lower price point for large-scale banquets, their “120” lineup is meant for youthful consumption. The Medella Real hits a nice price point on your core list, and the icon wines are solid options for deep pockets looking to try something new.

VIK Winery

By Peter Bothwell

Driving through the 303 hectares of vineyards on the VIK property, all I could think was, “Wow, who is this guy? Who is this guy that purchased over 10,000 acres of land in one of the most gorgeous (albeit relatively unknown) areas of Chile, then had the vision to turn it into paradise—complete with an artificial lake, state-of-the-art winery and multiple small hotels? Who is this guy that managed to assemble a dream team of wine specialists led by Patrick Valette, the French-Chilean wine master whose family once owned Château Pavie and who spent years analyzing terroir all over South America in search of the perfect place to grow grapes?”

So, who is this guy? This guy is Alexander Vik, a Norwegian entrepreneur who owns and operates businesses in everything from software to luxury hotels to spirits (he also owns Christiania Vodka, a potato vodka produced in Norway). While Mr. Vik is already a very accomplished and successful businessman, it's obvious he's still hungry (or, rather, thirsty?). Today, the ambitious Vik is also producing what might be the best wine in South America. While it seems that every other winery in Chile is bottling 10-15 different wines, VIK focuses on producing and perfecting just one.

VIK winery is located in Millahue, which is in the Cachapoal Valley and just over the hill from Apalta. The vineyard canvasses an impressive piece of land, home to varying exposures, slopes and soils including sand, clay, tuffeau and gravel. Almost 50% is planted to Cabernet Sauvignon, followed by Carmenère, Syrah, Cab Franc and Merlot, the combination of which make the final VIK wine.

During our visit to VIK, we were able to taste three unblended Cabernet Sauvignons, two Carmenères and one each of Syrah, Merlot and Cab Franc. All were from grapes planted in vastly different areas of the property. The Cabernet Sauvignon planted on sandy loam was smoky with huge tannins, while the version planted on clay was more iron rich and mineral-driven. While our table seemed to favor the Syrah (which was definitely killer), I leaned more in favor of the Carmenère planted on sand. The wine had a silky mouthfeel, rich with poignant, savory aromas of curry and cumin.

In the end, what matters at VIK is the final version of VIK: a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Carmenère with small percentages of Syrah, Merlot and Cab Franc. We were able to taste the 2011 during our visit and felt it was extremely tight, having just been bottled in April. I was able to try some of the 2010 upon my return to New York, and it was showing more aromatics: red and black fruits with that trademark Carmenère spice. Overall, the wine seems to show huge potential with a few more years of bottle age.

A bottle of VIK comes with a price tag ($99 wholesale in NYC), so it will likely prove a bit of a difficult sell to many consumers who are less familiar with Chilean wine. However, I can’t help but wonder if this is one of the best-kept secrets in South American wine. Maybe one day VIK will give Clos Apalta and Seña a run for their money.

Santa Carolina

By Victoria James

The second winery that we visited was Santa Carolina, one of the oldest wineries in Chile, established in 1875. This was a unique experience to visit a “city” winery, as Santa Carolina is located in Santiago itself.

When we arrived, the buildings looked as if they were just recently constructed… and they were: In 2010 a large earthquake hit Chile, causing severe damage to both Santa Carolina’s winery and the entire city of Santiago. After two years of reconstruction, the property has finally been restored to its original glory—not an easy thing to accomplish since the cellars were declared a National Monument in 1973! In order for them to keep this treasured title, strict guidelines had to be followed during the rebuilding, as it was essential to keep the authenticity and history alive through construction.

Santa Carolina’s portfolio is quite expansive. We tasted wines from all four collections: “Specialties,” Reserva de Familia, VSC Icon Wine and Herencia.

The “Specialties” collection hosts a range of wines that highlight different terroirs and styles of winemaking. Their "Ocean Side" Sauvignon Blanc is from Valle de San Antonio and reflects their cooler-climate winemaking style. With a burst of intense citrus-fruit aromatics, grassiness and salinity, this wine is meant to drink now and enjoy with the local seafood.

The "Dry Farming" Carignan is from The Cauquenes Valley and reflects Chile’s natural dry climate. The result is a raisin-like, dried-fruit characteristic with a touch of smoke and earthiness. The wine is on the richer side with plumpness on the mid-palate.

"Wild Spirit" Mourvèdre is from the Cachapoal Valley. Made from 100% Mourvèdre, it is a wonderfully easy-drinking wine that showcases the potential this grape has in Chile. The aromatics are rich with spices and herbs: boldo, saffron, vanilla and cinnamon.

Last, we tasted the "West Andes" Malbec from Valle de Cachapoal. Unlike Argentinean Malbecs, this was much more broad-shouldered with smoky and meaty notes over rich black fruits. The structure was powerful and plump with slightly drying tannins.

Santa Carolina’s Reserva de Familia wines are, for the most part, supposed to emulate Bordeaux in style. There is a Cabernet Sauvignon from the Maipo Valley, a Malbec from Peumo and a Carmenère from Rapel Valley. The wines resemble more of a Chilean interpretation of Bordeaux, with varieties that thrive on their home soils and fatten up in the Chilean sun. All of the wines share a common thread of dark, juicy, black fruit and a big, bold structure. The Carmenère leans more toward its typical exotic spices on the nose while the Malbec and Cabernet Sauvignon each show hints of earth or leather.

Grown on granite soil in central Chile, their VSC Icon wine is a base of Petit Verdot with bits of Cabernet Sauvignon, Carmenère, Mourvèdre and Malbec. This wine displays not only the potential of the Cachapoal Valley but also the potential of Santa Carolina to produce age-worthy wines.

Lastly, the most “Chilean” of their wines, as they described it, is the Herencia. This is mostly made up of Carmenère and the fruit hails from Peumo and Los Lingues—which they consider to be the best terroirs for this grape. Although I found this wine to be massive, it was completely balanced… and the price point definitely beat out its peers (Opus One, Caymus, etc.) in this category.

Casas del Bosque

By Victoria James

On the opposite end of the traditionalism spectrum lie Grant Phelps and Casa del Bosque. Grant Phelps, winemaker, is a New Zealander who now calls Chile home. In a country where the wine industry faces an identity crisis, a different perspective and approach is just what the doctor ordered. He is conquering the whimsical Casablanca Valley with a force of charm and precision.

Sitting almost 12 miles from the Pacific Ocean, Casas del Bosque is nestled in Casablanca Valley, Chile’s first cool-climate winemaking region. The valley is much cooler than one might think: in terms of growing degree days (GDD), Casas del Bosque stands at about 750 (°C) GDD in an average growing season. Now let’s compare that with one of my favorite cool climate regions: Champagne, which climbs to 950 GDD! Casablanca has the Pacific Ocean to thank for its marginal climate; cool breezes and fog roll in from the water, providing the grapes with a slower maturation period, which in turn preserves the elegant acidity and freshness.

Grant Phelps described the eastern side of the valley as having more sandy soils mixed with clay and loam. The western side is similar, save for a few black patches of volcanic soil. As you climb into the hillsides there is a top layer of red volcanic soil, which sits on sedimentary granite, formed about 120 million years ago beneath the Pacific—tectonic plate movement uplifted it over time. The grapes undoubtedly have big potential. The valley is perfectly suited to cool-climate varieties like Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay and Syrah. But what escalates them to another level is the man behind the madness…

Grant’s style of winemaking is not Chilean. It is not a New Zealand style either. It is a style all his own, and people are starting to take notice. For example, no one makes Sauvignon Blanc like Grant Phelps. The 2013 Reserva spent six days on its skins—as opposed to most wineries that allow the juice and skins barely enough time to start a love affair. Grant insists that when the grapes come from great terroir, you can intensify flavors with ample skin contact. And “intense” is a good way to describe this juice. Grant doesn’t believe in marriage to a single winemaking technique: in contrast to the Reserva, his Gran Reserva Sauvignon Blanc carries fatness and more glycerol, and is barrel-fermented in French barriques. Where the Reserva leads with a punch of herbaceous and citrus aromatics, the Gran Reserva offers more subtle notes of minerality and salinity.

My favorites here were the Chardonnay Gran Reserva and the Syrah "Pequeñas Producciones." Although I found the Chardonnay to be reminiscent of a Puligny-Montrachet and the Syrah of a Côte-Rôtie, they were also distinctly different from these models. The Chardonnay sees up to seven days of skin contact, which gives the wine a fantastic, gripping texture. If you like California Chardonnays in their most typical and commercial form, you will hate this wine. Malolactic fermentation is blocked, so that the richness in mouthfeel comes from other methods—bâtonnage, barrel fermentation, and 11 months in French oak. The Syrah "Pequeñas Producciones" has a tight backbone of acidity but fills out with supple fruit and savory notes like smoked meats. Grant explained that these grapes see almost two months of extra hangtime in the vineyard, meaning they are able to reach that harmonious level of phenolic ripeness. The nose on this wine is like nothing else in Chile; the palate will stop you in your tracks… It is a beautiful woman with soft skin—but sharp nails.

During our time in Chile, we visited quite a few wineries and winemakers. It was probably a good thing that Grant was the last winemaker we visited. When posed with questions, he was not only quick to respond with a detailed and precise scientific explanation, but he also gave us his reasoning behind it. I have heard a lot of different opinions about Grant, from criticism about his unpredictable antics to disbelief in a personality so strong. But there is one thing that can be said for Grant (and, I’d argue, for not many other winemakers in this world): there is, in fact, a method to his madness.

Santiago at Sunset

Guild of Sommeliers "Spire Sommelier Summit" 2013 Report

GuildSomm Admin — Sun, 08 Dec 2013 17:35:00 GMT

In early November, the Guild of Sommeliers invited ten candidates for the Court of Master Sommeliers' 2014 Advanced Exam to spend three days in Napa and Sonoma counties. The event's primary sponsor was Jackson Family Estates' Spire Collection, and the trip to wine country included visits to some of the portfolio's top wineries, including Vérité and Cardinale, and some excellent stops in the vineyards of Howell Mountain and Knights Valley. In addition, the group spent an afternoon discussing organic and biodynamic viticultural approaches with John Williams at Frog's Leap Winery in Rutherford, and peeked behind the scenes at Kistler in Russian River Valley, exploring the chemistry of wine.

Afterward, as each candidate logged the most impactful moments of his or her experience, a few themes emerged...

Winemakers John Williams and Chris Carpenter

Two Perspectives

There’s something to be said about getting a group of passionate individuals together to share their opinions, interpretations and perspectives. On the first day of the program, we were exposed to polar opposites: winemakers Chris Carpenter of Spire wineries Lakoya, Cardinale, and La Jota; and John Williams of Frog’s Leap. However, the greatest memory of the trip was seeing each other’s passion of extreme viticulture to provoke thought and discussion.

We traveled up the switchbacks of Howell Mountain to meet Chris Carpenter at the company's W.S. Keyes Vineyard (1,700 ft.) to explore mountain viticulture. Volcanic ash and rock – tufa – with little topsoil, coupled with gusting wind, laid bare the challenges of farming in high-elevation Napa. Every meticulous detail, from vine formations to VSP trellising, displayed the careful planning required to capture every bit of luminosity in the harshness of the mountains, and the wines were blissful, showing powerful structure and aromatic richness. Phenolics and tannin management take center stage for Chris in the mountains: they utilize irrigation and can manipulate structure, if necessary, to achieve their vision of pristine phenolics and age-worthy wines. My top wine was the 2005 Lakoya Howell Mountain AVA, eluding lengthy fruit and polished florals with generous tannic richness – balanced, but definitely ripe.

Our second visit took us back to the valley floor and into Rutherford to learn about dry farming and organic viticulture from John Williams. The emphasis here was on respect for the vine – and its surroundings – so the grape vines can produce and think for themselves. The soil structure was drastically different from the mountains: alluvial fans, gravel and loam. The ground had soft texture, giving and in the absence of drip irrigation lines the vines were encouraged to dig deeply into the earth for water. In John’s eyes, deep roots reduce the risk of phylloxera and allow the fabled Rutherford Bench terroir to shine through the wines. Respect for the vineyard and for the site takes precedence over power, and his goal is to make classic wines from healthy vines. Manipulation in the winery is not an option, and in one of his more printable analogies, John regards micro-oxygenation as akin to "forcing a flower to bloom early.” My favorite wine here was the 1987 Frog’s Leap Zinfandel, with savory red fruits, Christmas spice, dusty earth with a long, acid-driven finish – proof that you can age Zinfandel!

Both winemakers walk different paths in producing their respective wines, and there is more than one right way to express the best from a region, a vineyard, or a grape. The contrasts between Chris' careful details in managing microclimates to the macroclimate idealism of John Williams invited debate and emotion; perspective is opinion. We may choose to buy into another’s ideal, but we as sommeliers are responsible to investigate all sides of the discussion. We concluded that the best winemakers or “artists” are those who do not compromise, but follow their own obsessive paths. After seeing the passion of Chris and John, it’s very easy for me to find that balance for our wine program: support great wines AND support mindful viticulture. - Scott Ota

After a morning on Howell Mountain with Chris Carpenter, I gained some clarity on how several of the nuances of a wine are born in the vineyard. Chris distinguished between a few concepts that are often lumped together, and it is in these crucial distinctions (and the vintner's mastery of them) that the success and focus of a given wine lies. In particular, Chris examined the interrelated ideas of phenolics and tannins, and how warmth and sunlight propel their development. Essentially, tannins are phenolic compounds, but not all phenolics or phenolic compounds are tannins. For our purposes here, let's break this into two categories: Flavonoids and Non-Flavonoids. Flavonoids include tannins and anthocyanins, which affect color and mouthfeel (read: sight and touch), and non-flavonoids produce perceptible aromatic acids (such as phenolic, caffeic, cinnamic, and benzoic acids) that can affect taste and smell. I'm not an expert on phenolic compounds, but I can use this (admittedly over-simplistic) distinction as a basis for discussing what may be affecting the senses of sight and touch and what may be affecting the senses of taste and smell. A look at the so-called "triangle of phenolic bitterness" (Pinot Grigio, Albarino, and Gruner Veltliner) highlights how non-flavonoids manifest themselves differently than tannins and anthocyanins. While wines made from those grapes contain far fewer flavonoids, they are certainly influenced by other phenolic compounds. This wide range of non-flavonoid phenolic compounds is perceptible as distinct flavors in a wine. While non-flavonoids may not be as easy to distinguish in red wines, they certainly play a role in the final product. Chris makes the point that an astute winemaker will be aware of the difference in tannin and phenolic development. As he says, "you can't fake or adjust phenolics like you can everything else." Naturally, the question follows about how to manage the development of each. The answer reveals another seemingly subtle yet critical distinction between the effects of sunlight and heat on the vine.

Sunlight plays a greater role in the development of the phenolics, flavors, and the chemical compounds that create them by igniting the process of photosynthesis and determining how nutrients are developed and fed to the grape. Warmth and heat play more of a role in the rate at which a grape goes through the arc of the general ripening process – development of sugars and the decrease in acidity. Thus, in management of the vineyard, Chris makes an important distinction between sunlight hours (affected by aspect and, more specifically, ridge/tree lines and their shadows) and degree days (governed by latitude, elevation, and proximity to oceans).

Given the Napa Valley's vast range of topography and varying climatic influences (ocean, lakes, mountains, fog, etc.), the differences between vineyards, and particularly mountain vineyards, can be marked. As someone who tends to favor Old World styles and all of their subtle quirks, I admit to having, from time to time, treated the myriad of Napa Cabs as about as unique as each of the dancing girls in a Robert Palmer video. This experience has forced me to pay close attention to the beautiful nuances that I had ignored previously. Luckily, I was raised Catholic, so I understand that any growth begins with the shame of realizing one's own ignorance. - Matthew Dulle

Experiencing firsthand the different in warmth and sun in the mountain and valley floor AVAs of Napa was revealing. Draped in fall foliage, the vineyards had a lot to say: it was easy to see how different areas, even within the same vineyard, were changing colors at different paces. In the Keyes vineyard on Howell Mountain, there were three heavily shaded rows with no leaves, followed by a patchwork of green and yellow rows, with coloring dependent on individual aspect. Coming down from the mountain to Rutherford, you could actually feel the temperature change from light jacket weather to t-shirt and sandal weather. You always read about regions with markedly different microclimates within small geographic areas, but in autumn in Napa we experienced this firsthand.

The visit to Frog’s Leap was memorable, as John Williams' combination of zeal, confidence and salesmanship is extremely rare. I don't think that a single belief system or scientific understanding (in this case, a preference for dry-farming and organic farming) is the only correct approach to every possible situation in vineyard management. There are different ways to arrive at a similar goal, but – and this is what John Williams reinforced for me – the best approach is dictated by the land itself. I also appreciate the winery's practice of planting various other crops, requiring care at different times of the year, in order to provide for a year-round workforce. - Greg Van Wagner

John Williams’ passionate discourse on dry-farming, particularly with regard to irrigation’s role in the resurgence of phylloxera in Napa in the late 1970’s, was eye-opening. In the world according to John, every vineyard in Napa was dry-farmed prior to Andy Beckstoffer's introduction of drip irrigation in Carneros in 1975. From there, the practice spread throughout the valley. In the deep, volcanic, water-retaining soils of the Rutherford Bench, dry-farmed vines rooted down into the soil well past the phylloxera comfort zone of 18 inches, keeping the most important parts of the root away from the louse – even Aramon x Rupestris (AxR1) could survive phylloxera with a deep enough rootzone. But once a majority of the valley's producers began to employ irrigation, the roots become vulnerable as they retreated back up into the shallower soils in pursuit of a new, easy water supply. Only then did AxR1 – with genetic parentage that is half-vinifera – reveal its susceptibility to phylloxera. - Mia Van de Water

The Spire Summit could not have presented a more balanced perspective of Sonoma and Napa, even while largely representing one portfolio. John Williams’ exposition on dry-farming, organic principles, and a more grounded approach to biodynamics (with a smattering of Chinese philosophy à la the Tao te Ching), made me want to pitch a tent in one among his cover crops (planted to naturally attract pests away from the vines) and live off the land with Abby, the Frog’s Leap mascot. His wines are elegant and acid-driven, and express the old practices of Napa Valley. On the other hand, mountain man Chris Carpenter speaks highly of John’s conviction, while arguing that the fertile valley floor affords John more leeway to put his vineyard philosophy into practice than do the challenging mountain vineyards and spartan soils John prefers. Chris wants to express the bigger, riper side of Napa fruit, while allowing for corrections on the winemaking side. He represents the new guard of Napa – unabashedly big and bold, yet still offering balance and acidity. Spending the afternoon with John Williams and a morning and evening with Chris Carpenter could not have created a better balance between the old and new guards, and their very different perspectives. - Zach Gossard

Kistler's Mark Bixler in the lab, and Geoff Labitzke among Chardonnay vines at the winery's Vine Hill vineyard.

Day 2: Information Learned and Relearned, and Some Pretty Great Wines

At Kistler, our first stop in Sonoma County, we spent an hour as flies on the wall, soaking up some pretty technical details about acidity in pH in conversation with Mark Bixler and Geoff Labitzke MW, and deepening our understanding of post-fermentation chemical changes in wine. Following was a non-blind tasting of classic Chardonnay and Pinot Noir examples from across the world.

TA vs. TA: From Mark Bixler we learned that, practically speaking, there is no difference between total acidity (TA) and titratable acidity (TA). While we all know and acknowledge that there are many types of acidity in must and wine, we express them all as a single number (in g/l of tartaric acid equivalent) when measuring TA. - Mia

pH is a logarithmic scale: A wine with a pH value of 3 is 10x as strong in acidity as a wine of pH of 4. Additional fun fact: lees stirring in barrel tends to increase pH, and lower acidity. - Matthew

The relationship between pH and Sulfur Dioxide: My biggest takeaway from the pH discussion is how the pH of the wine affects the bioavailability of SO2. Lower PH allows a winemaker to use less SO2 to accomplish the same result. - Greg

pH is a more important indicator of age-ability than TA: From Mark, we learned that pH is a measure of the strength of acid based on the activity of Hydrogen ions, while TA is the expression of titratable acid, or the measure of total acidity. The idea that pH is more important for aging wines makes perfect sense as the evolution and reaction of Hydrogen ions with enzymes, esters, sugars and phenolics should be more important to the development of a wine in the bottle. What makes it difficult is how to measure the predictability of these reactions based on a given crop harvested at different times in different vineyards in various vintages. And how does one quantify or measure the future effects of these reactions? In the future, it will be interesting to see more data come out regarding the science of these reactions. - Scott

Non-Blind Tasting: We don’t often get to do tastings like this, and we probably should, as it is fantastically informative and more productive then just continuing to beat yourself over the head with blinders. Tasting in this fashion is incredibly useful as a drill to ascertain ripeness and oak contact on various similar wines. Tasting with a MW and hearing their views and thought processes on wine provides a slightly different perspective than tasting with MSs. Geoff Labitzke seemed to be more analytical, and used less “restaurant verbiage” in relation to wine's qualities (which certainly makes sense). Plus, while I may never actually order a Patagonian Pinot Noir (assuming that the wine we had was typical), at least now I can say that I have tasted one. - Greg Van Wagner

Later in the day, following a tasting and visit to Anakota's Knights Valley vineyards, we drank some spectacular stuff...

The final winery tasting was held at Verité in Alexander Valley, with a flight of 6 blind reds. Since we were on the property, I assumed that there would be one or two Vérité wines in the flight; however, to my surprise, the tasting included some of the biggest names in Bordeaux: Pétrus, Lafite and Cheval Blanc! My personal preferences still led me to name Lafite and Cheval Blanc as my two favorites, but the quality of Vérité was on par on with these great châteaux, albeit from a different perspective and with less brettanomyces (I can admit that I like a little brett). What was even more surprising was that Pétrus was my least favorite, tasting unbalanced in its flavors and oak treatment. Furthermore, Pétrus tasted the most developed (all wines were '05 or '06 -ed.), perhaps as a result of micro-oxygenation, thus leading the group to the conclusion that it would be the shortest-lived wine at the table. In my opinion, the tasting reaffirmed that blind tasting is still the best way to evaluate wine. And a huge thank you to Spire for allowing me to knock off two “bucket list” wines! - Scott

The blind tasting at Verite was crazy! Tasting and critiquing such wines without even knowing which they were was a great and eye-opening experience. I still cannot believe that the one that no one liked (Pétrus) was the most expensive of all. Afterward, we met for Salon Champagne and caviar, followed by dinner with Julia Jackson (Jess' daughter). What an honor. - Nikolay Dimitrov

The blind tasting line-up!

Day 3: Blind Tasting with Geoff Kruth, Matt Stamp, John Blazon, and Jason Heller

Tasting is such an individual thing and it is very important to accrue tactics and find what works best for you through continuous thought on your process, rather than just taking every bit of instruction verbatim. While I have been lucky enough to be able to taste with MSs regularly, everyone has a very different style and approach to thinking through a wine. It seems that there is spectrum of fantastic tasters that simply rely on different aspects of a wine to come to a conclusion. In the past, a lot of the MSs I have tasted with seem to be focused on the tactile feel/profile of the wine in conjunction with structure to provide their conclusion. In this tasting, we looked at a more theoretical and scientific side of the spectrum. With an amalgamation of tasting tactics, you have more tools to get past the “brick wall” with difficult wines. - Greg

At our blind tasting round table we learned about some of the chemical makeup of wine identity, and how things like pyrazines or rotundone decrease with ripeness. So (for instance) the debate between Federspiel and Smaragd Grüner Veltliner can be essentially boiled down: does it have significant white pepper and more tart, citrus-driven fruits (Federspiel), or, does it have very little pepper and ripe, fleshy, juicy fruits (Smaragd). Plus, you can always expect botrytis with Smaragd because that concentration is usually necessary to get to the alcohol levels required for the category. - Mia

The main thing that I learned is not to guess what the wine is…read it instead; that’s how you will get to it. - Nikolay

Golden State

While another famous wine region incorporates gold in its name, California is truly “sunkissed.” Even in early November, the days felt unseasonably warm as the sun beamed down throughout the day. The nights, while cool, did not necessitate more than a cursory extra layer of clothing, while it is snowing in Burgundy as I type this, some days later. California winemaking is not generally about managing extremes, but it requires straddling of warm days and cool nights to give wines necessary acidity to check ripeness. California is about choice: do I pick by Brix or by berry flavor and texture? Do I plant in a cooler subzone, or right squat in the middle of a hot valley? Do I strive to create a wine in the style of the Old World, or embrace the bountiful sunshine and warmth to create an opulent wine in the manner of the New World? The freedom of the New World creates a series of choices which most in the Old World are not afforded—and California’s top winemakers are expressing the entire spectrum of what a California wine can be. It is about power of flavor, balance of acidity, and the longevity that those beautiful tannins and acidity can embody. As always, it’s what ends up in the glass that counts. - Zach

I had the privilege to share this experience with several other outstanding sommeliers, all of who had great questions and all who respectfully shared their perspectives. We can all learn from each other if we just take the time to listen and to participate. Just being around other driven, like-minded sommeliers, we had the chance to learn from each other and to bring home new perspectives. Humbled to have been selected for such an amazing experience, I encourage other sommeliers to apply for these scholarships. The chance to learn from each other is all around you, and we should never stop learning. - Scott

I have been lucky enough to be involved in wine events that bring together a number of sommeliers at different points in their careers. This event was no different. There was a camaraderie that connected people in their 20s to those in their 40s and up. Any geographic divide amongst us was instantly bridged. The interactions with Master Sommeliers, winemakers and viticulturalists were second only to the peer-to-peer connection. The only question that was left unanswered? Just what the hell is "Napa chic?" (Jacket and designer jeans. No tie. -ed.) - Todd Brinkman

If you’ve ever been curious whether a group of eight sommeliers can consume two liters of Negronis a night, the answer is yes. I recommend a hot tub, good company, and shooting stars. - Mia

The Spire Sommelier Summit gang. Pictured front row, left to right: Scott Ota, Cindy Woodman, John Blazon MS, Mia Van de Water, Matthew Dulle, Nikolay Dimitrov, Zach Gossard
Back row, left to right: David Ferreira, Greg Van Wagner, Matt Stamp MS, Todd Brinkman, Geoff Kruth MS, Daniel Beedle

Alto Adige: Guild of Sommeliers Report 2013

GuildSomm Admin — Mon, 21 Oct 2013 16:48:00 GMT

In September 2013, the Guild of Sommeliers sent several of our members to the region of Alto Adige for an immersion in its culture and wines. Following is their collective report on the region.

Versoaln: “The Oldest Vine in the World”
By Mark Thostesen

A long, twisting drive up winding mountain roads provides vistas of sunset-drenched vineyards and foggy apple orchards. Alexandra, our local guide, speaks animatedly to the cultural and economic heritage of the region as we climb ever upward to our destination. She points to a large box like castle on a cliff. This is our destination, and it’s the home of what’s arguably the world’s oldest wine-producing vine in the world.

The vine, Versoaln, stretches from a base next to a small toolshed, over our heads and draped over a pergola, all the way up the castle walls. Its trunk is gnarled and massive, splitting into two main branches, each about six inches thick in diameter. The oldest writings of the vine place it at about 350 years old, but it is believed to be much older. The best part is that old-school, chestnut pergola training system that fans it out to a total of 350 square meters of vine stretching from the shed to a nearby cobblestone bridge and up to the castle. The largest branch is over 15 meters long!

Sadly, this vine is dying, very slowly. Esca (black measles) is taking its toll, steadily depriving the vine of water. Every year they cut out the sections where Esca appears, but it is not producing branches fast enough to keep up. But enough sad talk, let’s drink its wine! The 2012 Versoaln is bright but very pale gold/straw with touches of green. There’s a lightly aromatic nose full of mango, pineapple, apricots and blood orange. On the palate it’s full of lemon zest and a very distinct, saline minerality accented with orange blossoms on the finish. The wine is dry, with a moderate body aided by the salinity, moderate-plus acid and moderate alcohol.

Only 75 to 120 bottles are produced (total!) each year, so it was an honor to have this be our very first sip of Alto Adige on this trip.

The City of Bolzano: Two distinct cultures, one united region
By Mark Thostesen

You cannot talk of the town of Bolzano or its encompassing Alto Adige/Südtirol region without mentioning the amazing mosaic of the two major cultures that dominate the area. The cobblestone, winding roads of Bolzano show the duality of the region at every turn. Under Bavarian rule from 635 CE and controlled by Austrian Habsburgs from the 14th century onward, Bolzano (with the rest of the South Tyrol) was annexed by Italy in 1919. Nowadays, the city is both Italian and German speaking. Although there are many cultural differences, the ebb and flow of the city operates seamlessly by bringing in tourism from all edges of Europe to enjoy the gorgeous mountain views, fantastic speck and knödel, and intricate old architecture, monuments and cathedrals. Cin Cin!! Zum Wohl!!! However you say it, this place was amazing.

Speck tasting at Restaurant Vögele in Bolzano; Local wine expert Dr. Heike Platter of the Laimburg Research Centre of Agriculture and Forestry showing off Alto Adige's 350-year-old Versoaln vine

Cantina Terlan
By Arthur Hon

Tucked away peacefully in the shadows of surrounding mountains, Cantina Terlan provided the first opportunity to really understand the longevity of wines from Südtirol.

We arrived at the winery on a brisk morning while the landscape was still shaking the fog and warming up to a gentle morning sun; you had the feeling that everything was just starting to wake up. The rain from the night before was still evident on the vines; the moisture was still fresh in the air. We were all snapping pictures of the Sauvignon Blanc clusters planted right behind the winery while learning how to identify the two distinct soil types based the colors of the exposed rocks. Val d’Adige at that moment was truly magical.

After the obligatory cellar visit at Cantina Terlan, where we got a glimpse of their substantial library collections, all of us were in for a treat: upstairs in the tasting room, it was time to go back in time. The flights that our host Klaus Gasser prepared for us were focused on two grapes—Pinot Bianco (from the Vorberg vineyard) and Sauvignon Blanc (the select Quartz bottling)—and showcased what Cantina Terlan does best: create stunning wines with the ability to age in both warmer and cooler vintages.

In both cases, the oldest vintage we sampled from either variety seemed, amazingly, so much younger and fresher than those from the previous years. The colors and rim variations of the older vintages were also very deceiving as well. The usual drastic change in concentrations and hues in these wines is most visible during the first five years, and it was as if a time-freeze spell had taken over the bottles after that. Some of the treats we got to sample were the 1996 Pinot Bianco Vorberg, the 2000 Nova Domus (Pinot Bianco, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc), and 1989 Terlaner Classico (Pinot Bianco, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc).

One of the questions raised by the Consorzio was whether or not wines from Südtirol have a place standing side-by-side with top examples from other classic wine regions. In the case of Terlan, they definitely do.

View of Terlano in the early morning; 1989 Terlano Classico

Abbazia di Novacella
By Josh Orr

Quite frankly, I wasn’t totally sure what to expect heading to the northernmost wine region in Italy. Like any good sommelier, I read the chapter in Vino Italiano about Alto Adige, and created a mental image of what the region, culture, food and wine would be like.

That image held up right until the first hour of the trip: While on our way to Bolzano, our bus stopped for gas at a Shell gas station, and we all went inside for an espresso or macchiato. Yep, I said the words Shell gas station and espresso in the same sentence. They are Italians, that’s how they roll!

The terrain was truly unlike anything I had ever seen. Mountains draped with green towering over you on either side, and the thin valley floor completely covered with either apples or grape vines. The impressive terrain was relentless, even when we reached Bolzano, the metropolitan center of the region. As you walked the city streets, gazing at the beautiful buildings and the mixture of culture that emanates from every corner, your eyes are drawn to what little skyline you can see, due to the presence of immense mountains peaking out from behind the buildings.

I now have a firm understanding of Brian Jordan’s fondness for this region—and, in particular, the reds from the Schiava grape. When you stand on the stunning hill of Santa Maddalena, and the sun is shining down on all of the vines overlooking Bolzano, the glass of wine in your hand tastes amazing. I, having never had Schiava prior to this trip, was completely blown away by the quality and overall pleasurable drinkability this grape brings to the table. If you love Pinot without the price tag, you will love Schiava. If you love cru Beaujolais and want to impress your hipster friends, you will love Schiava. If you generally enjoy consuming wine that is as versatile at the table as Neil Patrick Harris is with acting/singing/dancing, you will love Schiava. This was my big revelation for the trip, and I am very thankful to have met the people behind the wines I plan on mercilessly pushing on the public in San Diego. Schiava + Speck 4LIFE!

Another highlight of the trip was visiting the Abbazia di Novacella winery, which is one of the northernmost in Italy. It is located in the Isarco Valley, a subregion of the Alto Adige. The Isarco Valley is known for primarily white wines—95% white, in fact—and Kerner, Müller-Thurgau, Riesling and Sylvaner have all found homes on the steep slopes here. Roughly an hour from the central town of Bolzano, the Valle d’Isarco had some of the most dramatic terrain on which vines were planted that we saw on the entire trip.

The Abbazia is still a working monastery with a fully functioning Catholic school for boys onsite. Founded in 1142, they’ve been producing wine for over 850 years! The grounds are immaculately well kept, and the vineyards follow the same pattern. The basilica on property was absolutely stunning with several secrets that are only noticeable once they’re pointed out (leg hanging from the ceiling, anyone?). The Abbazia also has one of the most historic and well-kept libraries in Europe. It is mostly contained within this one AMAZING room that looked like it came straight out of a Disney movie. It included books that were about five feet tall and seven feet wide, specially designed so all the monks could read the hymns on the pages inside, thereby avoiding having to produce multiple copies of the same (hand-printed) book for each monk.

On that note, although the monastery has a functioning wine team, not one of said team is a monk. The monks here are intellectuals, not laborers, we were told. Abbazia specializes in Kerner and Sylvaner but is also known in general for producing clean, correct, very well-made wines that present fantastic value for the price they command. I particularly enjoyed the 2012 Sylvaner Praepositus with its banana, citrus and melon notes coupled with hints of tequila and dried herbs.

Oh, and one more thing: The monastery has its own restaurant and even produces its own Amaro. Our group can confirm that it’s delicious, particularly when consumed at roughly 1 AM to settle your stomach or banish a fever after your fourth meal of speck for the day!

St. Michael-Eppan
By Chris Baggetta

At the heart of the impressive vineyard landscape of the South Tyrolean Oltradige subregion, scattered among the sunny slopes and hidden in age-old estates, you can find the farmhouses of the 350 members (cultivating 390 hectares) of the San Michele-Appiano winery.

We tasted several wines including Pinot Bianco, Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Grigio. I have to say, I was surprised by this winery’s focus on Pinot Grigio—and, in particular, on their focus on its ability to age, since I have never really considered Pinot Grigio to be an age-worthy white. I must admit that my previous tasting experiences have mostly been with the current releases (perhaps with the exception of a few Friulian examples). Yet there we were—tasting through a vertical of Pinot Grigio from the 2011, 2006, 2002 and 1998 vintages. St. Michael-Eppan’s Sanct Valentin Pinot Grigio is definitely its own distinct style: vinified from the best grapes and maturated in oak casks, this wine is something really unique, starting with the strong, golden color, aromas of honey and vanilla, and a light, buttery taste on the palate. This is Pinot Grigio??

Yes. This is Pinot Grigio from St. Michael-Eppan. Their 2011 Sanct Valentin Pinot Grigio saw 100% malolactic fermentation and 12 months in oak barrels (30% was new, 30% once-used and 40% two to three years old), followed by six months in stainless steel… it was like Pinot Grigio made in a Burgundian style. There were very obvious influences from the new oak, as well as apple, almond, banana skin and walnut notes. The 2006 Sanct Valentin was mineral and nutty, with less fresh fruit than the 2011, but more of those classic peanut shell and lager beer notes that are so typical of Pinot Grigio.

The 2002 St. Valentin really reminded me of older Chablis, at least in terms of flavor profile (not structurally, though, as there was much less acid). On the palate, the wine was nutty and yeasty, with dried herbs, crushed white flowers and lots of talc and chalk. This was a Pinot Grigio that called for food—fritto misto or oysters, perhaps. The 1998 St. Valentin was aged 100% in barrique yet was really unique, surprisingly tart and fresh. There was also higher acidity in this vintage than expected (especially after the 2002), but it was still nutty with slightly oxidative notes.

Our group was pretty mixed on whether or not we liked this interpretation of Pinot Grigio, but I was impressed by their unique style and the way the older wines were showing. It’s definitely not a benchmark style, nor is it for everyone, but I would be very happy with a bottle of the 2002 Sanct Valentin Pinot Grigio and a plate of salt and pepper calamari!

Tramin
By Jane Lopes

The first and last thing you notice when visiting Cantina Tramin, nestled in the hills of Termeno in the Bassa Atesina region of Alto Adige, is the design. Call it superficial, but I think the outward presentation of anything— be it fashion, architecture, product design, iconography—is of incredible importance in how it is perceived and consumed. From afar, Tramin is a study in opposition. A simple and quaint-looking house in the center supports giant wings on either side made of glass and encased by a bright green lattice. To have this juxtaposed against the lush yellow and green of the vineyards, the red hints of soil going up the hills, and the first sight of white snow on the mountains, is truly a spectacular sight. Tramin both embraces its surroundings in its design, as well as stands somewhat boldly in opposition.

I think this is an apt paradigm for looking at what Tramin is doing: a cooperative using traditional grapes of the region, while questioning and pushing the boundaries of what it means to be a cooperative, as well as the typical expressions of these grapes. As you can imagine, when dealing with 230 hectares of land (and 280 growers—do that math!), it is difficult to ensure quality, let alone philosophic approaches to viticulture. But Tramin is trying to do just that. They were one of the first cooperatives of Alto Adige to embrace sustainable agriculture. The 15 hectares of land that they cultivate themselves are entirely biodynamic and organic; their aim is to get the other growers on board as soon as possible, especially with the eradication of all herbicides.

The wines of Tramin cover a broad spectrum, from their Chardonnay-based Cuvée Stoan—a bright and fruity homage to the Mâcon (in my words, not theirs)—to the leesy, barrique-influenced Pinot Grigio Unterebner, to the dark and brooding Lagrein Urban. But what really struck me through our tasting was their interpretation of Gewürztraminer. Termeno/Tramin is the name the winery and the town (there's an Italian and a German name for everything in Alto Adige... er, ahem, Südtirol). Many will claim that Gewürztraminer originated in Tramin, taking its name from the region. Whether this is true or not, the grape is certainly a specialty of the region and of the Tramin winery in particular.

We had the opportunity to taste three different vintages of the Gewürztraminer Nussbaumer: 2012, 2009, and 2005. It is fascinating to watch Gewürztraminer—bbold, unctuous, fruity and flowery in a recent vintage—assume more delicate and nuanced expression as it ages. The residual sugar and alcohol integrate and spicy, mushroom-like, earthy secondary components emerge. Because of the lower acid, these are wines we don't often think about as contenders for aging, but I think with 8-15 years of age, they actually show more balance than when they are young.

Gewürztraminer has never been a grape that has appealed strongly to me, but the trip to Alto Adige has made me reconsider it as one of the fine wines of the world. And besides a few producers in Alsace, I don't think anyone is doing it finer than the wineries of Alto Adige. In addition to making fine wine, cooperatives like Tramin are working to sustain their environment and provide a means of living for the 280 growers they work with. And THAT is truly inspiring.

Kellerei Kaltern
By Stevie Stacionis

The landing page for the Kellerei Kaltern website welcomes you with their motto: Where wine is one of the family.

This simple saying could not be more perfect for summarizing a cooperative winery made up of a wild 440 members, together farming over 300 steep-sloped hectares, every last one of them by hand.

This simple saying could not be more perfect for summarizing the drop-dead-incredible picnic lunch that this winery put together for us, in a dreamland setting surrounded by pergola-trained Schiava vines perched over a tranquil turquoise Lake Caldaro.

This simple saying could also not be more perfect for summarizing the reason that I come back to—time, and time, and time again—whenever I begin to wonder why I love wine so damn much.

For me, wine is about sharing. It’s about community, and I’d even say it’s about family. It’s difficult to share a fantastic, inspiring bottle with someone and not feel a familial tug, like you shared a part of your history with that person.

We certainly felt like family when our boisterous group finally stopped snapping photos of the impossible scenery and sat down at the table with the dynamic and engaging Tobias Zingerle of Kellerei Kaltern (aka Caldaro, for the local lake). Polenta from a giant copper cauldron was heaped onto our plates next to pale poached sausage just before a ridiculously large slice of gorgonzola was set down to melt over the top. Thin threads of crunchy cabbage and fennel dressed with vinegar and salt were passed around, followed by pots of tender beans that I am sure they serve in heaven.

First, Tobias poured a Pinot Grigio that permanently banished my stodgy recollections of insipid stale beer. Then their Campaner Schiava came around, the color of gleaming rubies. I am positive that every last one of us wanted to polish off an entire bottle him or herself. We savored, asked for more, swooned… and in so doing I believe we shocked Tobias, who is trying ardently to make a name for Schiava in the States. “How do we market this?” he asked us earnestly. We threw around plenty of answers, brainstormed Schiava taglines and promised mainstream domination before we all settled into a post-polenta, full-belly daze.

The truth is, Tobias and Kellerei Kaltern (and all of our generous hosts on our trip to Südtirol) were already doing their jobs perfectly. How do you market Schiava? Or Lagrein? Or even Alto Adige Pinot Grigio? You remember that wine is about sharing, and so you share it. You remember that wine is about community, and so you invite a passionate one to come together. You advocate that wine is part of family, and so you set the table for them to celebrate just that: to eat, drink, talk and laugh together. I can promise you that every last one of us went home still wanting to polish off an entire bottle of Schiava, and begging our distributors to help us get it into our guests’ glasses. This stuff is addictive. Oh, and as for the tagline we chose: “Schiava: Bet You Can’t Drink Just One Glass!”

Polenta picnic in the vineyards of Kellerei Kaltern; Hofstätter Gewürztraminer tasting in the Kolbenhof vineyard, above Tramin

J. Hofstätter
By Jenni Wagoner

I believe it was the fourth espresso of the day that brought us, wide-eyed, into the presence of Mr. Martin Foradori. He stood at the entrance of J. Hofstätter looking every bit the part of the gracious (and stylish, in red pants and a navy blazer) host as well as a very enthusiastic tour guide.

We were in Bassa Atesina, the southernmost area of wine cultivation in Südtirol. It is known for being the warmest and largest area in the region, and I found myself going through the same ‘jacket on/jacket off’ routine that I experienced for much of the earlier part of the day. The effect of microclimates in this region is not to be underestimated. I looked around and admired the quaint nature of the town: the children walking down cobblestone on their way home from school, the church bells, the young couple enjoying a Campari spritz at the café from which we quadruple-caffeinated.

One of the most memorable attributes of this trip to Sudtirol, for me, was the sense of place; the sense of community. As I stepped to the cliff-side edge of any vineyard that we were lucky enough to admire, I couldn’t help but become a part of it. Rich in history and truly touched by the people, the wines and winemakers from this area gave me my first sense of intimately understanding how everything is connected. I have read about this. I have thought intensely about it at times… yet this was the first time that I truly felt it. Drinking these wines made by these people in these places… It all made sense.

Eight of us piled into the back of a military green truck (don’t ask why it was a military truck, it made sense at the time), and Martin took the wheel on the way to Kolbenhof vineyard, located just above Tramin. He spoke of “evil apples,” his young daughters and the area’s microclimates. Sitting between 1100 and 1500 feet above sea level, Kolbenhof has become an ideal place for the success of Gewürztraminer. From this spot on the southeast-facing slope, one can see Martin’s Barthenau estate. Looking back from the edge as we sipped, a large home stood quiet beneath a grove of trees. I loved hearing talk of soil types, minerality and wine business while simultaneously watching a woman slowly remove clean undershirts from a clothesline nearby.

Dinner across the valley at Barthenau was beautifully paired with the estate’s 1992 and 2000 Kolbenhof Gewürztraminer bottlings, and then we experienced what that vineyard is known for: Pinot Noir. The pair of 1997 and 2005 Hofstätter Barthenau Vigna S. Urbano Pinots were a gorgeous example of what the region can do with this variety, and I look forward to seeking out more of these wines in the future.

The evening ended with all of us around the candlelit table, sipping the last of our wine in a dreamy haze as I relished the tangible sense of the love, understanding and community behind wine that this trip had shown me.

Right around the time I was pondering what an inspiration the trip had been for me, Martin (in his suave red pants) excused himself from the table, walked over to the stereo and casually switched his iPod over from the classical and jazz music we’d heard all night… to Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.”

Castel Juval/Weingut Unterortl
By Paul Kulik

Soft-spoken, cat-loving Martin Aurich seems an odd counterpart for gregarious, world-famous extreme mountain-climber Reinhold Messner to select to run his Juval estate. But what Martin and his wife Gisele have carved from the sheer slopes 800 meters above the Etsch (Adige) River reveals a more resolute spirit.

The Unterortl property sits on a unique formation where the Schnalstal (Val Senales) and Etsch river meet, in the Vinschgauer (Val Venosta) region of the Etschtal (Valle dell’Adige). If that seems awfully German for an officially Italian appellation, it’s because 97% of the inhabitants denote German as their first language. The castle Juval, like so many that dot the Tiroler mountain peaks, profited from the prolific trade routes that cross north through the Alps. But the estate reveals more ancient handiwork, like stone etchings and irrigation troughs that date back to the Bronze Age. In fact, the discovery of Ötzi, a fully intact 5500-year-old mummy in the glacial permafrost of the Schnal valley, evinces the long and grueling human history in the region.

Castel Juval/Unterortl, which began in 1981, now produces from four hectares—an unfathomably large vineyard in the area (only one other producer in the Venosta Valley has commercial bottlings). Widespread viticulture is slow to come to the area, whose valley floor supplies an enormous proportion of the European apple market. And, although Martin begins by pouring Müller-Thurgau (a wine that shows sturdy potential for the Etschtal) and spoke highly about his two plots of Pinot Noir, it is his Riesling that steals the show.

It is not merely that the Etschtal receives half the rainfall and 1.5˚ C less average temperature than the Bolzano basin. Nor simply that the vineyards climb some 250 dramatic meters over eroded gneiss soils, precluding any mechanized harvesting. Neither the high-density plantings, nor the sun-splashed south-southwest exposure, nor even the dry, moderating Föhn winds from the confluent Schnalstal mountains alone contribute to such piercingly clear, focused and precise wines.

Martin’s approach is to incrementally harvest, taking the bottom half of the cluster first, then returning a few weeks later for the remainder, so as to allow for full maturation while maintaining a delicate, juicy intensity. In the cellar, Martin prefers neutrality: a gentle winemaking style with natural yeasts, stainless steel tanks, and large oak casks (though his Pinot Noir might see some barrique or acacia wood).

When he’s not making wine, Martin bottles a number of distilled spirits from a copper column still next to his tasting room. Wild plum, chestnut, apple and grape spirits are diluted with pure Juval mountain stream water to produce clean, generous, balanced fruit aromas.

One of the most striking things about Südtirol is how the area can be so intensely micro-independent. Although there is certainly a regional kinship, the Etschtal feels distantly removed from Bolzano, let alone the Eisacktal (Val Isarco). In some ways Castel Juval is a microcosm of this independent spirit; indeed, at the base of the lone switchback road to the property is a charmingly comprehensive boutique of locally produced fruit preserves, speck, kaminwürst and schuttelbrot. Martin adores the self-sufficiency of the hillside. Unterortl embodies it.

Muri-Gries
By Erica O’Neal

People often ask me, “what does the word ‘sommelier’ mean?” “What exactly does being a sommelier entail?” This was a great discussion topic throughout our recent trip to Alto-Adige; our group discussed it at length outside the context of simply attaining a certain level of Court certification.

The overall consensus was that a sommelier is a service professional, handling all aspects of the floor as well as providing knowledge—in an unintimidating way—to help choose a wine that will resonate with a guest for the evening. So what drives a person to want to be all of those things? This is the question that I believe needs to be answered first, because “sommelier” is more than a simple job title. Wine is a way of life. Our visit to the Muri-Gries monastery in the outskirts of Bolzano showed us this.

It would be easy to agree that a monastery has its own established community and chosen “path” to live by, but outside of Muri-Gries’ beautiful greenhouse, gardens and living quarters there stood a man, his daughter, and his belief in a native variety. Christian Werth was unlike any other winemaker I’ve met before. His soft voice, minimalist appearance and clumsy nervousness made me feel like he was gently opening his life up to us, hesitant about how we’d react.

Christian gently led us through the estate, enthusiastically answering questions about the history of the buildings, the meanings of the religious markings on doors, the types of exotic trees sprinkled through the yards. When we rounded the corner into the Lagrein vineyards, our curiosity was ignited. His daughter translated; Lagrein is a “noble variety” in her father’s eyes, and the region of Südtirol provides a perfect climate and terroir for the grape, so there was no sense in planting other more popular or international varieties. With every word he chose to describe his humble vines, he began to make a case for Lagrein that was to be unraveled in the tasting room.

We were served four wines: a 2012 Lagrein Rose (Krezter), made from the first-pressed juice of its bigger brother Lagrein bottling, then 100% Lagrein Riserva wines from 2011, 2007 and 2003. Christian, less hesitant now with us, spoke about the history of Lagrein, explaining that it was mostly used to make rosé, particularly because of its abundant fruit on the nose and palate. But the first pour of the 2011 Lagrein Riserva was surprising to me, because we had already tasted countless examples of this variety earlier in the trip, and what I found in this glass was strikingly different.

There was more elegance, more finesse in the structure of this 2011, integrating well with the fruit. It was not a deep rich purple hue or a vibrant pinkish purple that stained the glass, teeth, table, whatever the wine came in contact with. In fact, this reminded me of a Saint-Joseph Syrah, supple with black and blue fruit, and soft, chewy tannins amplifying the richness of the wine. The 2007 showed that there was some thought put into handling this variety that Christian noted, “wasn’t easy to grow, wasn’t easy to take care of, and was even harder to make into good wine.” The oak treatment changed slightly across vintages, thanks to Christian’s own curiosity and interest in seeing how Lagrein would wear each style.

The 2003 was the most shocking to me. In appearance it was tawny and paler as expected, but the wine was fresh, boasting plum, raspberry, chocolate, baking spices and cooling fennel, mint, and herbaceous characters. In a blind tasting I would not know what to call it. I’d never even consider Lagrein. I asked Christian’s daughter to relay the same thought to Christian, conveying that the sophistication of the wine was enchanting. Yes, there was new French oak on the wine, but it didn’t mask the violet floral notes, the blackberry and blueberry; it only turned it into a vision of an old log cabin shop you’d find selling local fruits and flowers in the mountains.

We asked Christian about his use of oak and why he chose to use particular barrels, how he arrived at a percentage of new oak, etc., and his daughter informed us that this has been an ongoing experiment for him for the past 25 years (as long as he’s been the winemaker there). New French oak was introduced to the wine in 1991, a few years after Christian became the winemaker at Muri-Gries, as he wanted to elevate the richness of the variety. He’s continued to experiment ever since. Surrounded with such a rich history of the monastery and winemaking, my respect for Christian grew immensely upon hearing that he would be so willing to experiment.

All of a sudden, Christian turned to his daughter, speaking excitedly to her in his polite, quiet German. He raced out of the room while she started to grab more glasses for us, and he returned with a bottle of 1993 Lagrein Riserva that he thought would be a good representation of his experiments with oak. You could see his nerves as he opened the bottle, wishing he had decanted this beforehand like he had for the other wines. Nevertheless, as soon as the wine was poured into our glasses, we were beguiled by the complexity of leather, tobacco, spice, blackberry, blueberry, earthen floor, clay pot and fennel seed that we found on our tongues.

To me, that bottle would definitely rival any Bordeaux, Barolo, Brunello—you name it, any day. For the first time on the trip our rambunctious group was speechless. We sat back and enjoyed the warmth of the wine and the company we had all found ourselves enjoying together. The noble (I said it!) Lagrein found at Muri-Gries along with the charming winemaker resonated in all of us as we nodded in agreement that this kind of experience, this ability to still be surprised by a great wine, is what makes us love wine, what drives us to be a sommelier, what drives us to want to share this with our guests.

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Pictured from left to right: Paul Kulik, Erica O'Neal, Arthur Hon, Jenni Wagoner, Mark Thostesen, Stevie Stacionis, Jane Lopes, Chris Baggetta, and Josh Orr

"The Beautiful South" London 2013 Trade Tasting: Overall Impressions / Top South African Producers

Admin User — Sat, 21 Sep 2013 15:14:00 GMT

"The Beautiful South" trade tasting was held this past week in London, featuring hundreds of producers from three countries of the Southern Hemisphere: South Africa, Chile, and Argentina. Wines of South Africa (WOSA) generously paid for three Master Sommeliers and 16 other members of the Guild of Sommeliers to travel to London for the event. We asked for a full report from the three Masters and comments from all Guild members in attendance. Following are some overall impressions on current trends in the Southern Hemisphere, and snapshots of some favorite producers and tasting notes from South Africa. Tasting notes on Chile and Argentina will follow later in the week.

Southern Hemisphere Observations

Pyrazine: Chile has, for better or worse, managed to completely ripen pyrazines out of their wines. For some this may come as a relief that the days of leafy Carmenere might be behind us, but for others this means a reduction in not only typicity, but authenticity. And I am not talking about a reduction in pyrazines, which might be an acceptable balance, but rather an entire obliteration. And it does not stop with Carmenere, but also includes Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot and Malbec (we will get to that in a moment). While this may seem desirable to some, I am left with a feeling of sameness and placelessness all at the same time. Why plant Cabernet Franc if you don’t want pyrazine character? Christopher Bates MS

Chilean Malbec? Partly as a result of Argentina’s immense success with Malbec, Chile was tempted to hop on the bandwagon, and began planting Malbec. Now with a number of 6- to 8-year-old Malbec vineyards coming on line in Chile, we are beginning to see a range of Chilean Malbecs entering the market to compete with Argentina. But as Argentina struggles with its association with one varietal, it is worth asking: is it a good idea to try to compete in a nearly saturated market against the well established brand of Argentinian Malbec? -Christopher Bates MS

Acid and Sugar (Truth in Labeling?): One of the truly amazing aspects of this tasting was that every wine was listed with its residual sugar, total acidity and finished alcohol levels - possibly a condition of doing business on the English market. I was really surprised at the number of wines that were listed with a minimum of 14% alcohol, over 3 g/l of residual sugar and anywhere from 5% to 8% acidity. This showed up across the board with all 3 countries offering many wines of this type. Many of the wines had a vibrant attack on the palate that accentuated a juicy fruit quality. Good or Bad? Really neither, but I left my last day of tasting wishing I had tasted drier wines that had less acidification. Many of my top wines came from the small group that were on the drier side. -Eric Entrikin MS

Is there such a thing as terroir in South Africa, Argentina and Chile: Yes! (But it comes with a disclaimer): In many regions the idea of terroir has firmly taken hold but there are still too many wines that were just crowd-pleasing fruit bombs. In an effort to achieve some semblance of terroir many producers will have to ask themselves if they are willing to lower yields and limit oak usage to produce wines truly reflective of their regions. Thankfully many producers seem to be making this transition as the number of wines displaying terroir-driven character was much higher than I have seen in the past. -Eric Entrikin MS

Cool Climate Focus... Chile and South Africa are making this a big focus of their winemaking style, and are really exploring the limits of viticulture in their respective countries. Overall this has been a boon to their quality and development of typicity, as the elegance of the wines is really starting to show in their home turf. In some cases the vineyard sites are maybe too cool, as I noticed in quite a few Sauvignon Blancs, which had a tendency to be just too lean and hollow. -Chris Tanghe MS

...And Climate Change: The current global mean temperature is 15.5° Celsius (59.9°F). It will continue to rise due to trapped greenhouse gases; the critical threshold will be 18° (64°F). Upon reaching that, we will experience an extremely unstable climate. Despite this bad news, temperature change has been less dramatic in the Southern Hemisphere because 90% of it is water, and the land temperature is moderated by the oceans and cold marine currents (Benguela and Humboldt) which come up from Antarctica. So while most of the world’s wine regions are in peril with rising temperatures, we still have the Southern hemisphere to keep us supplied with wine. -Jill Zimorski

Divergent styles of wine: The first sign that not perhaps everyone is using the exact same playbook, and maybe for the better! Cookie-cutter winemaking may be good for a staid commercial market but when was the last time that was a good idea? The level of experimentation in the Southern Hemisphere seems to be very much alive and growing by leaps and bounds. The unbridled desire to make a wine for every market has led to some interesting creations. Truly stunning examples of sparkling wines, a sweet variation of Pinotage deemed "Coffee Pinotage" (referred to as chocolate/cherry about two years ago) and Bordeaux blends that seemed more Bordeaux-like than many of the wines from that venerable French region were just a few of the varied styles of wine that were seen at the Beautiful South tasting. -Eric Entrikin MS

Ripeness: There needs to be more braking applied to over-ripeness. It’s noticeably a problem in Argentina where I was hard pressed to find any red wine under 14%. I am not a low-alcohol fanatic: there are wines that can handle themselves gracefully at 15%, but Malbec just isn’t one of those wines, for me anyway. Fruit is raisinated and oxidized as a result and the finish is dominated by booze. One sip and I’m done - not to mention the hundreds of other such wines to work through at a massive tasting. There are some great wines made here without a doubt but the overall impression was a need to tone it down. There are producers that are doing a great job and scaling back, South Africa as a whole has made leaps and bounds in the last 5 years. I was very, very impressed with the restraint and elegance of even the warmer WOs. Chile is also getting there but has yet to really figure it out with the exception of the well established houses. It was eye opening to walk from South Africa table to table and be consistently impressed with overall quality. -Chris Tanghe MS

It’s All About Wood: It seems to be par for the course that in the modern evolution of every wine region there comes the craze for oak. Argentina is in the heat of it now. It is common to see producers offering a range of Malbec (sometimes other varietals as well), each distinguished simply by its exposure and use of wood. To quote one producer: “It's all the same wine, but with different amounts of wood chips”. I could not make that up. Certainly, this will quickly go away, and in no time these lines will be divided by truly unique and noticeable differences in the base wines (terroir) with wood use appropriate to the wine, as opposed to the other way around. -Christopher Bates MS

Availability: Many of the South African wines aren't available in the U.S. Some owners expressed frustration with our jumble of laws, and others said they've been burned by their importer and/or distributors. I believe that there's a lot of potential for organized, ethical U.S. importers to do more business with South African wines. -Rob Van Leer

Pinotage: My first surprise occurred when one of our winemakers (at a producers' dinner) poured me a glass of Pinotage, that tasted, well, remarkably un-Pinotage like. I asked Louis Boutinot (Export Manager for Waterkloof wines) what was happening in my glass. There was none of the iodine or burnt-rubber characteristic that (sadly?) we have come to expect from this grape. My question prompted a tremendously informative exchange, and what I came to discover is that all the nasty that we have come to associate with the grape is due to excessively high yields, from young vines and from wines that haven’t been vinified correctly. The consensus (among South African wine professionals at my dinner table) is that unfortunately, even with Old Vines and controlled yields, Pinotage needs a lot of manipulation (particularly micro-oxygenation) to taste, in their words, “decent.” Additionally, it is felt that Pinotage is best when élevage occurs in Hungarian or American Oak barrels, as it needs a touch of sweetness. So, typical Pinotage? Made poorly. “Correct” (but also heavy handed/interventionist) winemaking yields only a mediocre wine? Is the final product worth the process then? No one could really answer that, so to break the silence I told the South Africans at my table that I grew up on the east coast and there are some wineries in Virginia that are growing & producing Pinotage. That news went over like a lead balloon…and their response was the same as mine: "Why?" -Jill Zimorski

South African Label Lingo: courtesy of Jill Zimorski

Kloof refers to a canyon or ravine through which water runs.
Dal = Valley
Klip = Stone
Koffie Klip = Coffee Stone, a term for decomposed Granite with a high clay content
Steen. Ummm, no one uses this word to describe Chenin Blanc anymore. I didn’t hear one South African say it and it appeared on no labels. When I inquired at the Chenin Producers Association table, the response was eerily Mean Girls-esque. “It’s an old term, no one uses it anymore.” (Stop trying to make Steen happen Gretchen; it’s not going to happen.)
Hanepoot. No one really uses this term either. Cue shock and awe. (also, “oo” makes a soft “u” sound…as if it was spelled Haneput)

Tasting Notes: Eric Entrikin MS

Old Vines: Of the themed tables for tasting the most interesting to me were the Old Vine wines. The Old Vines provided a glimpse into what these regions can do with lower yields. Unless the wines were overdone there was a true sense of terroir in many of these wines. Old vines in South Africa favored the white varieties!

Beau Joubert Vineyards & Winery, Old Vine Chenin Blanc, 2012, Polkadraai Hills: A really amazing wine that had much less RS than many of the red wines at the tasting. Vines were only 32 years old, but a lush red apple, honey, melon and floral quality lingered on my palate a lot longer than in many of the other wines.
Darling Cellars, Arum Fields Chenin Blanc, 2013, Darling: 30-year-old vines produced a fabulous mineral-laden version of Chenin Blanc.

Although I tasted many very good to excellent Cap Classique sparklers from South Africa (mentioned below), a special note of mention for one Argentine Sparkling wine that I had the pleasure of tasting at the winery 2 years ago and also at the Beautiful South tasting.

Bodega Fin del Mundo, Extra Brut, 2010, Neuquen: 80% Pinot Noir and 20% Chardonnay. I'm not sure if this can compete with top quality NV Brut Champagne but at $20 retail it really doesn't matter. A fine bead that lifts a strawberry, white cherry compote with signs of lees aging that give it a Champagne-lookalike quality. I'd put this up against a lot of sparklers from around the world.

Wineries that impressed me across their entire line:

De Wetshof in the Robertson Valley is run by Danie de Wet and his two sons, Peter and Johann. The estate has been producing wine for 150 years. The southernmost part of Robertson Valley is only 90 km from Cape Agulhas, and it receives a convection effect of constant air flow. During summer this is mostly an onshore flow bringing the cooling influence of the ocean. This allows De Wetshof to be a Chardonnay specialist. The moderate temperatures and abundance of limestone, gravel and clay soils gives them some excellent fruit. Along with an excellent Cap Classique Brut NV, made from 70% Chardonnay and 30% Pinot Noir (all in the current bottling from the 2007 vintage with four years on lees), there are several Chardonnays in the line up and only the unoaked version did not get top marks. Two Chardonnays really stood out: the Lesca 2012 spent 10 months in oak (1/3 new) and showed great balance between fruit and acid with a yeasty undertone, and the Site 2012, in new oak for 12 months, displayed a roasted hazelnut, lemon balm and crisp apple character while still maintaining a great degree of elegance on the palate.

Crystallum in Walker Bay pulls fruit from many regions and had a terrific lineup of wines focusing on Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. The Cuvee Cinema Pinot Noir 2012 (Hemel-en-Aarde Ridge) was a favorite for its savory fruit character, length and texture. The Clay Shales Chardonnay 2012 (Overberg) had lingering texture and length.

Gabrielskloof in Bot River on the Western Cape produced a range of some of the driest wines I saw at the entire tasting. My favorites were the Magdalena 2010, a blend of 50% Sauvignon Blanc and 50% Semillon, that displayed fennel, wax, green pepper and honey notes with a long finish that just sat on the palate. The Blend 2010 from 36% Cabernet Franc, 25% Cabernet Sauvignon, 20% Merlot, 20% Malbec and 7% Petit Verdot was made in a true Bordeaux model with cassis, black cherry, raspberry, tobacco and cedar aromatics. There were some large-framed tannins on the finish that gave the wine a structured nature that will require some more age.

Some standout wines:

Demorgenzon Maestro White, 2012 Stellenbosch: A blend of 31% Chenin Blanc, 24% Chardonnay, 23% Roussanne and 22% Viognier had a intensely floral, fruity complexity that evolved in the glass as elements of grapes in the blend showed themselves: jasmine, nut, white peach, orange peel all came with a terrific weight and texture. The wine reminded me a bit of the fantastic white blend of Mas de Daumas Gassac.
Waterkloof, Circumstance Seriously Cool Cinsault, 2012, Stellensbosch: A Beaujolais-like quality in structure but with lovely blue fruit, violets and notes of black tea. A refreshing wine that had low RS and moderate alcohol.
Klein Constantia Cap Classique Chardonnay, 2009, Constantia: A terrific sparkling wine that had a surprisingly long finish and juicy texture on the palate with citrus, fennel, and brioche notes.

Tasting Notes: Chris Tanghe MS

Age-ability: Ronan Sayburn MS presented a great seminar on the aging potential of these wines that was fantastic and impressive. As sommeliers we often don’t give enough credit to these regions for their longevity. Some highlights were:

1995 Montes Alpha Cabernet Sauvignon, Curico: slight garnet rim, dried herbs de provence, tobacco, compost, tomato leaf, sweet red fruit core – dried cherries, strawberry, currants, silky tannins and bright acid. still has five years left.
1998 Meerlust Rubicon, Stellenbosch: Garnet rim, dried black fruits, smoky earth, soy, umami, chocolate, menthol finish. peaking now.
2000 Catena Zapata Catena Alta Malbec, Lunlunta: Dusty Malbec tannins, swisher sweets, slightly dried black plum/prune, blackberry, blood sausage, licorice. At least five years left.

Highlights in South Africa:

Crystallum: A third-generation winemaking family in Walker Bay, they produce primarily Chardonnay & Pinot Noir but in recent vintages have a new bottling of Syrah/Mourvèdre from Swartland, which was excellent. They are moving towards natural yeasts and are playing with more whole cluster fermentations. Oak usage is quite moderate and in all the wines it was very well intergrated.

2012 Cuvee Cinema Pinot Noir: A single vineyard at high elevation in Hemel-en-Aarde. Very high-toned red fruits of cranberry and strawberry with savory elements of tarragon, beets and spice. Elegant and lovely.
2012 Peter Max Pinot Noir: A blend of two different vineyards in Hemel-en-Aarde. Natural yeast and partial whole cluster fermentation. A bit richer than the Cinema, with darker and more plush red fruits of black cherry and plum, with mushroom and oak spice. Oak is more apparent but fits with the richness and concentration. The whole cluster really shows through and balances out the fruit. Powerful and ageworthy.
2012 Clay Shales Chardonnay: From a single vineyard in Hemel-en-Aarde Ridge. Barrel fermented in 10% new barriques. Lots of verve with red apple, lemon curd, jasmine and mineral tones.
2011 The Agnes Chardonnay: Produced from a blend of 3 vineyards in Hemel-en-Aarde and Overberg. This one is a bit richer with tart tropical fruits, kaffir lime, lemongrass and great texture. Lots of density balanced with a mineral undercurrent.
2011 Paradisum Syrah/Mourvedre: Produced from old bush-trained vines in Swartland, this cuvee is 80% Syrah and 20% Mourvedre. Super meaty & gamey with black pepper, charcuterie, juniper and spice. Yes please!

Radford Dale is one of the labels of the Winery of Good Hope group based in Stellenbosch. They make wines from several WOs and singlehandedly changed my impression of Pinotage, as their bottling was completely devoid of that burnt rubber chemical smell. None of the wines surpass 13.5% abv!

2012 The Renaissance Chenin Blanc: Produced from 50-year-old vines growing in decomposed granite at the base of Helderberg mountain in Stellenbosch, the wine is barrel-fermented in around 15% new oak and shows ripe stone fruits with orange marmalade, ginger, saffron and banana cream pie. Lots of acid and mineral to balance out the richness.
2012 Nudity Syrah: A new bottling from them after much experimentation with zero sulphur use in production. The result is a taught and floral nose that is surprisingly clean. Violets, perfume, plum, grapefruit, venison jerky and mineral. Allemand-esque.
2012 Frankenstein Pinotage: Grown in white marl at the foot of Helderberg mountain, 100% de-stemmed and free-run juice, 14 months in second- and third-year barrels. Silky red and black fruits with cardamom, bouillon, and red flowers. Very clean and delicious.

Cederberg, located in the Cederberg mountain preserve, just east of Citrusdal, has some of the highest vineyards in South Africa. The property has been a farm since the late 1800s and it’s first vintage was 1977 Cabernet. Extremely isolated, it’s about 3+ hours from Cape Town.

2012 Sauvignon Blanc: Extremely bright and zippy, this wine is all about fruit and acid. Lime, jalapeno, parsley and green apple with clean rocky base. No oak.
2010 Cabernet Sauvignon: Classic Cabernet here. Tobacco, cassis, cedar, nutmeg, vanilla, gravel, plum with lots of structure and aging potential. Oak is present, roughly 50% in new and 50% in 2nd-year barrels. Pyrazine is evident and at a proper level.
2012 Bukettraube: A cross of Silvaner & Trollinger developed in Germany that is used for off dry and sweet wine styles. South Africa has the most plantings now as it is very susceptible to powdery mildew. Off-dry with 25 g/l of RS it has a nose similar to Muscat – very floral with dried tropical fruits, cotton candy, apricot but with ripping acid. Fun wine.

Tasting Notes: Christopher Bates MS

Highlights in South Africa: This is where it gets exciting. As recently as 2011, I would have never thought I would be saying this, but narrowing down my list to only a few wines from South Africa was nearly impossible. These are some of the most exciting, compelling wines I have tasted recently, and I believe them to be only the tip of the iceberg.

Newton-Johnson: A relative newcomer located in the Upper Hemel-en-Aarde Valley, the modern winery is built to allow for gentle handling. With a focus on Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, this winery is quickly showing a deft hand at incredibly detailed and delicate wines.

Chardonnay South End 2012: Stony, unbuttered popcorn, and just a hint of VA elevate the nose to earth and complexity, and the texture is stony and rich with medium-plus acid.
Chardonnay Family Vineyard 2012: Burnt rock, mineral, unbuttered popcorn, toasted wheat bread, with pie crust, subtle baking spices and a saline core, ending with great balance and a creamy texture.
Pinot Noir, Walker Bay 2012: Light ruby color gives way to fresh cherries and pomegranates with sweet spice, dried herbs, potting soil and a bright and light texture. Delicious.
Pinot Noir, Family Vineyards 2012: Similar to above but with additional roasted strawberry noses, cranberry and a sour cherry note all adding to the complexity. Well made wine, showing amazing delicacy.

Mullineux: Along with peers like Adi Badenhorst and Eben Sadie, Mullineux is a major force in what is being termed the “Swartland Revolution.” With reclaimed, old dry-farmed vineyards on a variety of soils, this young couple turns out truly world-class Chenin-based whites and Syrah-based reds. All natural (spontaneous) ferments.

Kloof Street White: 75% stainless and 25% Neutral Barrel. 100% Chenin Blanc. Honeyed, oily waxy texture with lemon peel, lemon oil, lanolin and green apple. The wine carries significant texture but ends fresh and bright.
Mullineux White: 75% Chenin (70 years old), 15% Clairette Blanche (80 years old) and 10% Viognier, aged in neutral wood with one new foudre blended in each year. Deeper than above with honey, waxy with smashed yellow apple, damp hay, sweet lemon, creamy corn, and a texture loaded with oily, waxy, honeycomb viscosity. Full bodied and long on the finish.
Kloof Street Red: 83% Syrah with Cinsault & Carignan. Fresh aromatics of bright red fruits, showing a granitic edge. On the palate, sour cherry, cranberry, tart and juicy with a bright finish.
Mullineux Syrah: Grown on granite, schist and iron soils. 50% whole cluster and 3 months on skins. Creamy smoked plums, blackberry, blueberry, sweet and savory spices, creosote, and char. Medium-plus acid and medium-plus tannin.
Granite: Black fruits, soft cherries, mineral salt, and burnt herbs all supported by medium-plus acid and tannin.
Schist: Smokier, leaner than the Granite, but with more red floral and spicy notes. The wine is perfectly balanced.
Straw Wine: 100% Chenin Blanc. Honeyed apricots, soft wool and passion fruit caramel, with a savory, marrowy palate. Great wine.

Alheit Vineyards: A young couple is behind this winery, producing white wines exclusively. Their major focus is on the vineyards, and the exceptional old, dry-farmed bush vines that South Africa sports.

Cartology 2012: 86% Chenin, 14% Semillon (including Semillon Gris). Beeswax and bruised fruits with citrus marmalade, oil, lanolin and confit ginger end with a leesy, toasty texture and just a hint of VA to add lift.
Radio Lazarus 2012: 100% Chenin. Textured and rich with waxy sandstone and a ton of herbal savory notes. Well-built wine.

Springfield: A small, family run estate in the Robertson Valley whose wines are built in a rather restrained style for the area. With vineyards full of rocks and a noticeably old fashioned attitude to wine making, it is no wonder these wines show an incredible ability to age. I have been in love with these wines for years, and this tasting only emphasized why.

Sauvignon Blanc “Special Cuvee”: Grown on a sand “island” between two rivers which--when they flood during the winter season--are completely submerged, allowing for boats to pass over the vines.
- 2006: High toned jalapeño, lime, tart apple, cooling green herbs and a bright finish with medium plus acid. This wine shows how ageworthy SB can be here. This wine has many years ahead of it, and has barely even begun to evolve.
- 2012: Jalepeno, lemon peel, green apple, and grass end with medium-plus acid and a bright finish.
Sauvignon Blanc “Life from Stone” 2012: 80% quartz soils. Tropical, passion fruit, pineapple core, snipped herbs and high acid.
Chardonnay “Wild Yeast” 2010: This wine sees no oak but spends 3 years on the lees. Sweet spice, creamy, marzipan, cinnamon and a round rich texture with just a slight impression of RS on the finish.
Chardonnay “Methode Ancien”: From a highly calcareous vineyard with natural yields of 1.5 tons to the hectare. This wine undergoes barrel fermentation and aging.
- 2009: Caramel, butterscotch, creamed corn, almond skin, and sea salt. The palate is rich and creamy.
- 2002: Buttered toast, biscuits, meyer lemon candy, pear, yellow apple, tarte tatin and a long, perfectly balanced finish.
Cabernet Sauvignon “Whole Berry” 2011: Graphite, gravel, pencil lead, plum, and cassis; soft and balanced with medium-plus acid.
Cabernet Sauvignon “Work of Time” 2008: Blood, orange peel, ruddy, earthy notes, with tonic, and a bit of VA. Gravel and great structure, this wine is delicate but with noticeable tannin.
Cabernet Sauvignon “Method Anciene” 2006: Grown on quartz. Orange peel and oxidation, but with perfect amounts of savory and sweet fruit and earth.
2001: Bloody, meaty, decaying leaf, tobacco and cedar…wow.

Other Highlights: Kanonkop (Bordeaux varietals and Pinotage), Meerlust (Bordeaux varietals), Buitenwerwachting (Sauvignon Blanc), Cederberg (all).

ConfEUsion: A Quick Summary of the EU Wine Reforms

Barrett Ludy — Fri, 05 Oct 2012 00:37:00 GMT

We’ve all had that customer. The one who wants to know wine, but is still hung up by the “Is Burgundy a grape or a region?” question. It’s easy to get frustrated at the simplicity of questions like these, but the central idea remains the same. The sheer memorization required to make sense of the modern wine world proves to be something of a Sisyphean task. Within the United States, this problem is complemented by our society’s monolingualism (bi- and trilingualism being more necessary in Europe as their language density is much higher). Put together, these factors make it quite difficult for any traditional European wine to deeply penetrate the American market. If these were the only issues with the European wine industry, the changes probably would have been gradual.

However, Europe had other problems.

Our story starts in Europe around the year 2000. Long heralded for their wine-consumption, countries like Italy and France were staring down a decade-long decline in wine consumption. In the mid-1900s, France averaged a heroic 117 liters of wine consumption per capita. Italy barely bested France in the 1970s averaging 120 liters of wine per person per annum. Several decades later, their consumption rates are far more modest. According to European Union statistics, France consumed 56.8 liters of wine per person in 2010, and Italy is slated to fall below 40 liters of wine per person per year by 2015. While these markets represented the two largest-consumption markets of the EU, the story was the same across the continent. Newer generations of consumers were drinking wine at far more moderate levels than preceding generations. Different economists cite different causes, from depressed economies to anti-alcohol advertising campaigns aimed at youth to stricter regulations about alcohol consumption. No matter the reason, the outcome was the same: Europe was drinking far less wine...alarmingly so. (1)

By 2000, Europe had been operating at a wine-production surplus for several years, because, as their domestic wine consumption was declining, their production was actually increasing. At first, it was a rather small surplus, but over time, it became a veritable lake of extra wine. It was estimated that, without intervention, the surplus would exceed 13 million hectoliters by 2015 (that’s 1.73 billion surplus bottles). (2) When the EU recognized this growing problem, it expanded an already-established program aimed at turning excess wine into usable, pure distilled alcohol. This was called the “Crisis Distillation Scheme,” and, to its credit, the program worked. It successfully curtailed the excess wine; however, it cost a fortune. With this safety net in place, many wineries expanded their production, and, thus, the cycle began anew. This time to head off the excess production, the EU increased the amount of excess wine that they destroyed (to prevent lasting damage to the environment, wine has to be systematically dismantled). Together, these distillation and destruction programs carried a €260 million price tag. Something had to be done. (3)

In contrast, across the Atlantic Ocean, the American, Canadian, Japanese, and Chinese wine markets were beginning to boom. In the 1990s, the United States’ wine consumption climbed from 1.74 gallons per person per year to 2.02 gallons by 1999. (4) In the 2000s, this climb continued, and by 2010, the average American was consuming 2.7 gallons of wine per year. (5) In July of 2011, a Gallup poll was released showing that Americans between the ages of 18 and 35 chose to drink wine as often as they chose to drink beer (and far more often than they chose to drink spirits). (6)

As the EU watched the American wine market continue to grow, European market share in the US market did not enjoy a proportionate increase. About 25% of Europe’s export volume (31% of its export value) normally found its way to the United States. With these figures, the United States was the world’s largest importer of EU wines; nevertheless, in the eyes of the EU, the United States was a resource which had not yet been fully-utilized. (7) In 2010, within the United States, domestic wines outsold imported wines by a ratio of about 3:1. All told, Europe estimated that it could quite quickly increase its American sales by 25 million liters. (8)

At the beginning of July 2007, the European Commissioner for Agriculture and Rural Development Mariann Fischer Boel outlined a plan to overhaul the European Union wine industry. As she addressed the Italian Senate, she said, “Drawing this line between past and present reminds me of a simple but important point: the concept “history” exists because, in life, things change.” (9) She cited a disproportionate import vs. export ratio, the growing lake of surplus wine, the difficulty for European wines to be understood in foreign markets, and the need to modernize the production chain in the face of globalization. To address these problems, she put forth a 10-point approach for the EU wine industry:

Direct EU funding to Member States to adapt measures, promote internationally, modernize the production chain, and restructure individual vineyards
Promote environmental protection and development in wine producing areas
End restrictive planting rights
Phase out the Crisis Distillation and Destruction programs
Introduce a “Single Farm Payment” program
“Grub-Up” non-viable vineyards
Promote and introduce responsible and approved winemaking practices
Lower chaptalization limits
Revamp aid for the use of musts
Simplify labeling rules (10)

In the list above, most of these steps are relatively self-explanatory, but there are a few worthy of note. The first is the end to restrictive planting rights. Currently, the EU has regulations that prohibit planting new vineyards. The aim of these laws is to prevent wineries from expanding their production and subsequently adding more wine to the already-large surplus wine lake. These prohibitions are set to expire at the end of 2015, and, while it might seem counter-intuitive to allow planting extensions whilst simultaneously trying to lower surplus amounts, the Commission plans on overseeing all vineyard restructuring to prevent this from happening.

To further prevent this wine lake from growing, the Commission wants to phase out the crisis distillation and destruction schemes that many wineries saw as a safety-net. Again, discontinuing the programs which were effectively controlling the surplus seems counter-intuitive, but the logic is simple: Without a safety net, wineries are responsible for their own excesses which means they will be more hesitant to produce excess wine. In other words, these schemes are no longer paid for using other people’s money. The wineries must either deal with the excess (and, let’s be honest, no winery has enough storage space to hold all of its surplus production) or responsibly dispose of the excess. Because wineries must now foot the bill for the disposal of all excesses, they will probably become more reticent about their overproduction.

Early in their examinations, the Commission realized that there was a bevy of unnecessary, low-quality vineyards spread across Europe. To address this, they instituted a program that involved compensating winery owners to tear out non-profitable vineyards. For this scheme, they coined the term “grubbing up” and it was quite popular. It sought to rapidly reduce wine production by means of a “voluntary withdrawal scheme” (11) targeted toward struggling winemakers who were paid a premium to tear out their vines (some were paid as much as €350/hectare). The program was introduced in 2009 and was set to conclude on June 30, 2012, by which time, 175,000 hectares of non-viable vineyards had been grubbed-up.

The Commission realized that many of the winemakers who had chosen to grub up relied on the, albeit modest, income from their vineyards. To offset that loss of income and put the winemakers on path of economic viability, the Commission introduced yet another program to subsidize plantings of new crops. This happened often in the La Mancha area of Spain when non-competitive vineyards were grubbed-up and replaced with olive trees, oranges, or various other crops. This program was called the “Single Payment Scheme,” and, combined with the grubbing-up scheme, it caused Europe to turn the corner on overproduction.

As with all government-introduced programs, the question was quickly asked, “How do you plan to pay for these?” To Commissioner Boel, the answer lay in the already-established National Envelope program. National Envelopes are an allocation of funding from the Common Market Organization for wine, based on the respective member states’ participation in various EU Wine Reform programs. These National Envelopes are aimed at financing the various reform programs in the Union’s wine-producing countries. Between 2009-2013, the lion’s share (38%) of these National Envelopes was aimed at restructuring and converting vineyards to make them more profitable in future vintages. Up to 50 percent of an individual member state’s National Envelope can be used to promote that country’s wines in a third-country market (e.g., the United States). Thus far, the EU has only averaged spending 16 percent of the total National Envelope allocation on third-country market promotion. (12) However, as the various countries complete different stages of implementation, it is logical to assume they will start spending more on international marketing campaigns. (13)

Changes to Labeling Requirements

The majority of the changes discussed thus far refer to the internal reforms made by the EU to simplify and modernize its wine industry. To many people in the outside world, the most recognizable changes that Europe made were to its labels. To this effect, the Commission saw two major international obstacles their wines had to overcome: 1.) It took a fair bit of memorization to know the locations of the various appellations, and 2.) It took even more memorization to know what grapes were synonymous with what appellations. ( For example, EU officials realized that people were far more apt to buy a bottle of wine that said “Pinot Noir” than one that said “Bourgogne Rouge.”) To address this issue, they allowed a varietal statement on a wine label. As long as the wine contains a minimum of 85 percent of the stated varietal, that wine may display the varietal. Thus, the bottle that previously only said “Bourgogne Rouge” could now say “Bourgogne Rouge, Pinot Noir,” or the wine that previously said “Chianti” could now say both “Chianti” and “Sangiovese” on the front label. While this doesn’t sound like a huge change, the CEEV (Comité Européen des Entreprises Vins) stated that between 2008-2010, EU wine exports rose by 22 percent. The committee cited the improved recognizability of the wines because of the wine reform laws as this export increase’s major cause.

The second change made to labeling requirements involved changes made to the quality hierarchies of different areas. Where we were accustomed to seeing Denominazione di Origine Controllata, we found ourselves one morning waking up to the see Denominazione di Origine Protetta! This small but noticeable change was part of an overarching change that the EU made to all forms of wine labeling. In April 2008, the Commission proposed that there be three official categories of wine recognized in the EU. These would be “Wine,” “Protected Geographic Indication,” and “Protected Designation of Origin” (Wine, PGI, and PDO respectively). Because the European Union does not recognize any one official language, each member state was free to translate these terms into their governmental language. The adaptations of these are outlined in the table below:

Country	Wine	PGI	PDO
Italy	Vino	Indicazione Geografica Protetta	Denominazione di Origine Protetta
France	Vin	Indication Géographique Protégée	Appellation d’Origine Protégée
Spain	Vino	Indicación Geográfica Protegida	Denominación de Origen Protegida
Germany/Austria	Wein	Geschützter Geografischer Angaba (“Land Wine” in Austria)	Geschützter Ursprungsbe-zeichnun (“Prädikatswein” in Germany, “Qualitätswein” in Austria)
Greece	Epitrapezioi Oinoi	Topikoi Oinoi	Onomasias Proelefsis Anoteras Poiotitos (OPAP or OPE for dessert wines)
Portugal	Vinho	Indicação Geográfica Protegida	Denominação de Origem Protegida

Wine

Wines that fall under this classification level are produced without any specific Geographic Indication; however, producers are allowed to mention a country of origin (and, as with the classifications, these origins are allowed to be stated in the governmental language of the specific member state). For example, “Wine” from Germany would be “Deutscher Wein.” Wines in this classification can now mention both the varietal and the harvest year. This classification now encompasses all previous Table Wine categories.

PGI or Protected Geographic Indication

The lower level of the geographically-designated quality wines are referred to as having a Protected Geographic Indication. Wines in this classification level have considerably more restrictions than the “Wine” classification level. These restrictions include: (14)

“Geographic Indication” means “an indication referring to a region, specific place, or a country.”
“It must possess a specific quality, reputation, or other characteristic attributable to that geographic origin.”
“At least 85% of the grapes used for its production must come exclusively from that geographic area or varietal.”
“Its production must take place in that geographic area.”
It must be “obtained from vine varieties belonging to Vitis vinifera or a cross between the Viti vinifera species and other species of the genus Vitis.”

PDO or Protected Designation of Origin

Of the wine-producing regions that have been approved to show a geographic indication, those perceived to be of higher-quality and that have followed more strict regulations during their production are labeled with a designation of origin. These wines are intended to embody the terroir of their respective regions and are referred to as having a Protected Designation of Origin. They must follow far more specific production rules, some of which are outlined below:

“Designation of Origin” means “the name of a region, a specific place, or, in exceptional cases, a country.”
“Its quality and characteristics are essentially or exclusively due to a particular geographical environment with its inherent natural and human factors” (terroir).
“The grapes from which it is produced come exclusively from this geographic area.”
“Its production takes place in this geographical area.”
“It is obtained from vine varieties belonging to Vitis Vinifera” (15)

Traditional Terms

Needless to say, the above proposals caused some ultra-premium winemakers to panic. Imagine you were a producer in the Montalcino area of Italy whose Brunello di Montalcino DOCG would now be hierarchically equal to your Rosso di Montalcino DOC as they would both be produced as sub-denominations of a Montalcino DOP. That would be a pretty alarming change. With this possibility, and many others, in mind, the Commission introduced language allowing for the continued use of “traditional terms.” A traditional term is defined as “a term traditionally used in Member States for designation: 1.) that the product has a protected designation or origin or geographic indication under Community or Member State Law, or 2.) the production or aging method or the quality, color, type of place, or a particular event linked to the history of the product with a protected designation of origin or geographic indication.” (16) Essentially, this definition grandfathers-in nearly any term that was previously used to appellate a wine. So, Spain can still use Denominación de Origen. Germany can still use its Kabinett, Spätelese, Auslese, etc., labels. For a traditional term to be recognized and legal, a region must have paperwork proving its historic origin that is then filed and catalogued “in accordance with [a Regulatory Committee].” (17) A complete list of all the registered traditional terms in the EU can be found at E-Bacchus (http://ec.europa.eu/agriculture/markets/wine/e-bacchus/index.cfm?event=searchPTradTerms&language=EN).

Regulatory Bodies

Prior to the wine reforms, the regulating bodies behind the various DOCGs, DOs, AOPs, etc., were defined by the governmental body responsible for wine regulation. For example, in Italy, consorzi regulated the production in each region, and if they wanted to add a DOCG, DOC, or IGT, they had to propose the addition to the Ministero delle Politiche Agricole Alimentari e Forestali. The proposal was then either approved or blocked by the Ministero. In Spain the various Consejo Reguladores made their recommendations to the Ministerio de Agricultura, Alimentación y Medio Ambiente. In France, the Conseils of the different regions processed their recommendations to the Institut National des Appellations d’Origines.

One piece of legislation in the EU wine reforms stipulated that the monitoring and controlling of all appellations must be executed by an “independent public body and/or an authorized third party.” This body has been empowered to take any recommendation of additional appellations or changes to regulations and, in turn, present it to the Commission (Commission for Agriculture and Rural Development). Ultimately, it is the Commission that will make all final decisions for approval or denial of new appellations. The Table below outlines the primary regulating bodies for the most major winemaking countries in Europe. (For a full list of competent authorities designated by Member States, look here: http://ec.europa.eu/agriculture/markets/wine/lists/21_en.pdf.)

Country	Old Regulating Bodies (regional / national)	New Regulating Bodies (regional / national)
Italy	Consorzi / Ministero delle Politiche Agricole Alimentari e Forestali	There are many, but the main regulating body is Valoritalia
France	Conseils / Institut National des Appellation d’Origines (INAO)	Institut National de l’Origine et de la Qualité (still the INAO, just under a different name)
Spain	Consejos Reguladores / Ministerio de Agricultura, Alimentación y Medio Ambiente	The Autonomous Communities (Autonomías) / General del Estado (specifically, the Office of the Deputy Director-General of Quality Wines)

Ratifying a new appellation

Essentially, these reforms added an extra step in the process of approving a new appellation. Take Spain for instance. If a remote region of La Mancha wants to apply to become a new DOP, it first needs to draft a proposal for the various regulations that it would like to see mandated in its proposed region. Affected producers would then pass the proposal on to the Autonomía government of La Mancha. Invariably, autonomía officials would want to change some things and the producers would have to agree with those changes, but eventually, these agreed-upon changes would be passed on to the Deputy-General of Quality Wine. The Deputy-General of Quality Wine, after making some changes (which would then require approval from the autonomía and the producers), would pass them on to the Commission which would vote on the proposal. If they voted to pass it, the region would become a new Spanish DOP.

All told, these changes have, at least so far, meant a headache for winemakers and lawmakers in the EU. Yet, the effect on the United States wine trade has been largely beneficial. International wines are slowly becoming more recognizable because of simpler appellation classifications and varietal statements on the label. The fact that 50 percent of a Member State’s National Envelope can be directed toward marketing in the United States and other international markets has resulted in huge marketing pushes. And, while the changes to the various appellations, classification systems, and political approval processes can seem both unnecessary and convoluted, it has, at least so far, resulted in some pretty positive sales numbers (as expressed by BIVB, CIVB, Valoritalia, CIVA, and Vinos de España).

So, that same customer earlier who was asking, “What’s in it?” might find the wine world a marginally simpler, less daunting place. Instead of staring at a bottle with a furrowed brow, maybe he can find answers to some of his simpler questions by reading the label. And maybe, due to the various and sundry programs aimed at raising the overall quality of wine, he can enjoy a better bottle of EU wine. If both of these statements come true, and cause him to buy more EU wine in the future, then the Commission would probably say that it accomplished its goal.

(1) “EU-27 Wine Annual Report and Statistics,” Baldi, Stefano; USDA Foreign Agriculture Service: GAIN Report. 3/1/2011.
(2) Ibid.
(3) Boel, Mariann Fischer; “Wine Reform: Speech to the Italian Senate.” Rome, 6/17/2007.
(4) “Wine Consumption In The U.S.” The Wine Institute. http://www.wineinstitute.org/resources/statistics/article86. 4/19/2011.
(5) “EU-27 Wine Annual Report and Statistics,” Baldi, Stefano; USDA Foreign Agriculture Service: GAIN Report. 3/1/2011. However, The Wine Institute disagrees with this statistic putting US consumption in 2010 at 2.54 gallons per person.
(6) “Wine Matches Beer in U.S. Drinkers’ Preferences This Year,” Gallup, Inc. http://www.gallup.com/poll/148676/wine-matches-beer-drinkers-preferences-year.aspx. 3/6/2012.
(7) The United States has almost 300 million inhabitants who average 2.7 liters per person per year which results in 810 million liters consumed annually. If consumption could grow to 3.0 liters per person per year, this would net a growth of 90 million liters annually.
(8) Previously-postulated consumption statistics applied to import statistics.
(9) Boel, Mariann Fischer; “Wine Reform: Speech to the Italian Senate.” Rome, 6/17/2007.(10) Ibid.
(11) “Reform of the EU Wine Sector” http://ec.europa.eu/agriculture/capreform/wine/index3_en.htm. 3/6/2012
(12) “Wine CMO: First Submission of Financial Table of the National Support Programme.” European Union, June 2008.
(13) In June of 2012, the Commission voted to allow a portion of these National Envelopes to be paid directly to the various wineries of a country through “direct payments.” Every EU country wishing to take advantage of this allowance must submit a proposal to the Commission outlining a need for additional National Envelope allocations. (“CAP Reform: Direct Payments for Wine Growers.” http://www.herbert-dorfmann.eu/en/press/press-releases/75-cap-reform-directs-payments-for-wine-growers.html. 6/20/2012.)
(14) “EU Council Regulation NO 479/2008;” Official Journal of the European Union, 6/6/2008.
(15) Ibid.
(16) Ibid.
(17) Ibid.

About the author: I grew up the son of two dedicated wine aficionados in northeastern Indiana before moving to Spain in 2006. It was there that I discovered a love for wine and food, so, as soon as I came back to the United States, I began a two-year culinary apprenticeship. My stagiaire and college classes finished the same week and I began work as a chef sommelier. Following that job, I was hired to be a retail wine store manager in Indiana. That pushed me further down my wine-stained career path as I then became the wine director for a well-known store in New Jersey. In September of 2011, I was hired by Winebow, Inc. into the Wine Education Department which I now manage.