February 17, 2012
The Bitter Battle Over Sweet Wine
By ERIC PFANNER
ROCHEFORT-SUR-LOIRE, FRANCE . The Loire Valley vineyard of Quarts-de-Chaume produces one of the most delectable sweet wines in the world, a nectar as mellifluous as the French that is spoken in this most linguistically correct region of France. But it has left a bitter taste on the tongues of some of the local producers. This is a dispute in which both very little and quite a lot is at stake.
With only 50 hectares of vines, Quarts-de-Chaume is one of those postcard-size appellations that dot the French winemaking map. But the grapes it yields are special; the Layon River, which snakes its way toward the Loire in the valley below, sends humidity up the slope, fostering the development of botrytis, or noble rot, producing an unusually racy, complex, sweet wine.
The quality of Quarts-de-Chaume, which lies just outside this town in the Anjou region, has been recognized since the Middle Ages. Its name, according to some tellings, refers to the fact that in pre-Revolutionary, feudal France, the tenant farmers were required to give one-quarter of their harvest to the landowner.
Quarts-de-Chaume was also expected to lead the wines of the Loire into the future. After Bordeaux and the RhôValley, this is the third-largest quality wine- producing region in France, stretching from the hills of Auvergne to the mouth of the river near Nantes. While it has a trove of interesting varieties and unexpected finds, the wines have rarely fetched the consumer attention . or the prices . of their rivals from more prestigious French regions.
One reason, some Loire producers say, is the lack of an official ranking system, like the classifications that govern the wines of Burgundy, Bordeaux and Champagne; there, the most aristocratic vineyards are labeled as grands crus or premier crus; in the Loire Valley, all the wines, in the best Republican tradition, are commoners.
Some years ago, in an effort to raise the profile of the region.s wines, Loire vignerons began agitating for the creation of their own hierarchy. Quarts-de-Chaume was nominated as the first candidate for grand cru status. A portion of the larger vineyard that surrounds Quarts-de-Chaume, called Coteaux-du-Layon, was nominated to become the first premier cru.
Finally, late last year, the authority that oversees the complex system under which quality French wines are labeled, granted the vignerons their wish. There was just one final hurdle: approval from the Conseil d.Éat, a high administrative court, which is often just a rubber stamp in such matters.
In January, however, one of the biggest and best Quarts-de-Chaume producers, Domaine des Baumard, filed a lawsuit with the council, seeking to block the project. A simmering feud between Baumard and the other vignerons flared up again.
.Libertéegalitéfraternité these are no longer the three words of France,. said Florent Baumard, who runs the family-owned estate.
Dressed in a stylish suit, pouring samples of Quarts-de-Chaume at a recent wine fair in the city of Angers, Mr. Baumard hardly looked the part of the Jacobin. He said he had no objection to the creation of grands crus and premiers crus along the Loire . only to the way in which the plan had been drafted.
Mr. Baumard said the authorities ought to have conducted a wholesale inventory of the Loire Valley.s vineyards . a vast and jumbled landscape that includes well-known appellations like Sancerre, Vouvray and Saumur-Champigny, as well as more obscure regions like Muscadet-Cô-de-Grandlieux, Touraine-Azay-le-Rideau and Cô-du-Forez.
Mr. Baumard has another objection, this one more personal. Under the fine print in the proposal, certain vine-growing and winemaking practices long employed by his estate would be banned.
These include a technique called cryo-selection, which involves freezing the grapes before they are pressed. Some critics describe this as a way to artificially concentrate the wine, though Mr. Baumard said he used it merely as a way to sort out inferior grapes. Some of the most prominent producers of sweet wine in Sauternes, the great Bordeaux appellation, do the same, he added.
Banning such processes .is Bolshevism, a return to the Middle Ages,. he said.
Rival Quarts-de-Chaume vignerons also disapprove of Mr. Baumard.s vineyards, which were planted, decades ago, in widely spaced rows. This is contrary to the winemaking orthodoxy . in France, at least . which holds that tightly packed vineyards produce the best wine because they force the individual vines to work harder, yielding fewer, more flavorful grapes.
Mr. Baumard said his father had planted the vines after studying practices in countries like Germany and Austria, which, like the Loire Valley, have relatively cool climates. The wider spacing lets in more sun.
Under a previous rule change, some of Mr. Baumard.s vineyards were already disqualified, costing him hundreds of thousands of euros worth of production, he said. Now he fears that the rest might be threatened.
.I live from these vineyards. I can.t let it happen,. he said.
Others are equally determined to get the rules in place. Claude Papin, who heads the Quarts-de-Chaume vignerons. association, has been campaigning tirelessly for the new labels and is infuriated that Domaine des Baumard is trying to get in the way.
.Because of this personal dispute, we could lose 10 years of work,. said Mr. Papin, who runs Châau Pierre-Bise, which also makes excellent Quarts-de-Chaume, though in a style that is very different from those of Domaine des Baumard.
While Mr. Baumard.s wines display a shimmering elegance and remarkable purity of fruit, Mr. Papin.s Quarts-de-Chaume is subtle and complex. While Mr. Baumard eschews the use of wood barrels, Mr. Papin.s Quarts-de-Chaume is aged in oak and shows a hint of the nutty flavor that comes from exposure to oxygen.
Yet both producers. wines demonstrate the perfect adaptability of the chenin blanc variety to the making of sweet wine, the only kind that is permitted under the Quarts-de-Chaume label. This is a variety whose delicate fruit and lacy acidity perfectly balance the sugar, producing a sweet wine as bracing and electric as a winter sunset in these vineyards.
Sweet wines, not just those from the Loire, have fallen out of favor with consumers. One reason is the low quality of some examples of the genre. In decades past, sweet wine often meant cheap, industrially produced sugar water.
Mr. Papin said the proposed new rules for Quarts-de-Chaume would send an important message to consumers and producers alike, ensuring that terroir-style winemaking, rather than mass production, prevails.
This is a legitimate point. The Loire is a region where industrial practices, including mechanized harvesting and the use of herbicides, pesticides and other chemicals, remain widespread. Yet it also seems strange to penalize Domaine des Baumard; its wines are standard-bearers not just for Quarts-de-Chaume but for the entire Loire.
This is not the only dispute over vineyard classifications in France, where considerable amounts of pride and money ride on the allocation of labels like grand cru and premier cru. Recent reviews of two Bordeaux classifications . the grands crus of Saint-Éilion and the Crus Bourgeois of the Medoc region . resulted in extensive legal wrangling.
But the battle in Quarts-de-Chaume could have broader implications, potentially determining the fate of other Loire Valley vineyards with aspirations to grand cru or premier cru status. These could include Bonnezeaux, just down the road from Quarts-de-Chaume, which also produces sweet wine, as well as several vineyards within the Savenniès appellation, where mostly dry whites are made.
Other growers in Quarts-de-Chaume seem to support the plan to create the classification system, despite a few reservations.
Given the difficulty of selling sweet wine, Jo Pithon of Domaine Pithon-Pailléxpressed disappointment that the grand cru and premier cru designations would not be permitted for dry wines.
.It.s essential to recognize the value of this terroir,. he said, but added: .I think what.s most important is the quality of what.s in the glass, whether it.s called grand cru, premier cru or whatever..
50 Hectares and a Duel
50 hectares and a duel
(NOTE Prices are in Euros. Today, $1 = 0.755 Euros. One Euro = $1.32)
Quarts-de-Chaume is an enclave within the larger Coteaux-du-Layon appellation. All the wines bottled under these names are sweet. The wines of Quarts-de-Chaume tend to be more concentrated, complex and expensive than those from the Coteaux-du-Layon.
Quarts-de-Chaume
2007 Domaine des Baumard. Deep yellow, with a slight tinge of lime. Pear, green apple and some tropical fruit. Concentrated and intense, but crystalline and lively. About .45 per bottle.
2010 Châau Pierre-Bise. Lovely gold color. Concentrated and complex, from very low yields. Notes of honey and pine nuts. About .25 per half-liter bottle.
2005 Châau de Suronde. Considerable oxidation gives it the deep amber color and the almond and hazelnut flavors of tawny Port. Tasty, if you like that sort of thing. About .35 per half-liter bottle.
Coteaux-du-Layon
2010 Belargus des Treilles, Pithon-PailléFrom a plot with volcanic soil. Open, rich and delicious, with peach and apricot fruit, some herbal notes and a long, lingering finish. Around .35 per 375-ml bottle.
2005 Les Bruandiès, Patrick Baudouin. Elegant, balanced and dangerously, mouth-wateringly drinkable. Not overly exuberant or fruity, but spicy and complex. Around .30.
2010 Clos de l.Éu. Fresh and smooth. Excellent value, considering the amount of work and the low yields required to make sweet wine of this quality. About .12.
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* Dr. James Ellingson, jellings(a)me.umn.edu *
* mobile : 651/645-0753 *
* Great Lakes Brewing News, 1569 Laurel Ave., St. Paul, MN 55104 *
* james(a)brewingnews.com James.Ellingson(a)StThomas.edu *
February 13, 2012
Embracing the Power of Gigondas
By ERIC ASIMOV
FRENCH winemakers, in their full-on selling mode, love to tell a story in which they serve their own invariably modest wares along with some competitors. expensive, highly rated bottles. Everybody loves the expensive wines on first taste, but at the end of the meal, the winemakers recount with pride, the other guys. bottles are still three-quarters full while their own have been drained dry and second bottles opened.
The point? Just because a wine is immediately likable doesn.t mean it will remain pleasing over the long haul.
This tale may have achieved all-star status among marketing cliché but it nonetheless applies particularly well when assessing grenache wines. Few grapes make wines as immediately pleasing as grenache. A first glass envelops you in its rich, powerfully fruity embrace. It.s that tricky second glass where the measure of the wine can be taken.
That glass will reveal whether the initial blast of fruit was structured in a way that will refresh, invigorate and energize, or whether it will simply wear you out. The fatigue factor is often a problem with grenache.
It.s a hot-weather grape, planted throughout southern France, Spain, California and Australia, and it regularly achieves alcohol levels over 15 percent. Without scrupulous management, especially in the vineyard, those fruit flavors can easily taste hot, jammy and sweet.
Yet, when done right, the sheer fruit-drenched power of grenache can be immensely winning, particularly when the juicy, exuberant fruit is tempered by mineral or herbal flavors that create a sense of complexity.
Just the other day, I opened a 2008 Gigondas from Domaine du Cayron. Like most reds from the southern Rhô this was a blend dominated by grenache, 70 percent in this case, along with syrah, cinsault and a touch of mourvèe.
The wine was ravishing, with the great wash of plummy, berry fruit anchored by an earthy, almost gravelly foundation. Sure, it was 14.5 percent alcohol, but it was perfectly refreshing. My wife and I finished a bottle, proving once again the utility of the old French winemakers. saw.
Grenache is the basis for great wines like Châauneuf-du-Pape and Priorat from Catalonia, as well as many lesser known wines, including Gigondas, Châauneuf.s close neighbor. Perhaps as a result of the increased popularity of Châauneuf, or its rising cost, I.ve seen more Gigondas in the last few years, especially on restaurant wine lists, where they are often touted as less expensive versions of Châauneuf.
In an effort to get a clearer picture of Gigondas, the wine panel tasted 20 bottles from recent vintages, mostly 2009s but also a scattering of .07s and .08s, and one 2010. For the tasting, Florence Fabricant and I were joined by Raj Vaidya, the head sommelier at Daniel, and Pascaline Lepeltier, wine director at Rouge Tomate.
We all agreed that collectively, these were sound, fruity, generous wines that could be extremely likable. Yet it seemed equally clear that placing Gigondas on a level with Châauneuf was mostly wishful thinking.
Good Châauneuf offers a kind of crumbling magnificence and grandeur that mostly eludes these more straightforward wines. We didn.t find the characteristic aromas of wild herbs and spices that relieve the fruitiness in good Châauneuf. Even the Domaine du Cayron, which I had enjoyed so much at home, but which sadly was not in our tasting, lacked that extra dimension.
While the aromas and flavors of Châauneuf immediately evoke a particular sense of place, these Gigondas wines summoned up more generalized images of southern France. Raj suggested at one point that the telling details of Gigondas were not to be found in the aromas and flavors, but in the structure and high alcohol.
Let.s be clear, though. I don.t mean to criticize Gigondas; I simply want to adjust expectations. Every sort of wine has its place, and I especially value good everyday wines. Even allowing for vintage variations (and 2009 was a warm year that would heighten the fruitiness and power), most Gigondas rarely rise to the level of exalted.
.There.s a tiny world between Cô du Rhôand Gigondas, and a big gulf between Gigondas and Châauneuf,. Pascaline said. Wines from Gigondas had been considered Côdu Rhô until 1971, when the region was awarded the right to its own appellation.
Among our favorites, we especially appreciated wines that offered a sense of liveliness and energy, which allows even big wines like these to be refreshing. Our No. 1 bottle, the 2009 Les Mourres from Notre Dame des Palliès, seemed particularly balanced despite its 15 percent alcohol, and was one of the more complex wines in the tasting. Our No. 2 wine, the 2007 CuvéTradition from Domaine du Gour de Chauléwas also fresh, and if it lacked the sheer power of the Notre Dame, it made up for it with herbal and mineral accents that we rarely found in the tasting.
Like 2009, the 2007 vintage produced big, opulent wines. Many were over the top, though some (the Gour de Chaulénd our No. 3 bottle, the 2007 Domaine de Font-Sane) were delicious. The Font-Sane was a brawny wine, also at 15 percent, yet had that savory, earthy freshness that we liked so well. It was also our best value at $21.
Most Gigondas are under $40 a bottle, though they occasionally rise to surprisingly expensive heights. We paid $73 for a 2009 Prestige des Hautes Garrigues from Domaine Santa Duc, yet we found it overly big and jammy. It didn.t make our top 10. Nor, at $65, did the 2008 Hominis Fides from Châau de St.-Cosme, which was rich and tannic, but had a sweet, candied fruit flavor.
Other wines worth noting were the well-balanced 2009 Pierre Henri Morel; the concentrated yet complex .09 La Font de Tonin from Domaine la Bouïiè; the potent, juicy 2010 from Les Pierres du Vallat, a $19 bottle, and the slightly funky 2009 from Domaine Saint-Françs-Xavier.
And I can.t forget the earthy, licorice-tinged .08 Domaine du Cayron that I drank at home. Even if it wasn.t in the tasting, it.s the benchmark I use for how enjoyable Gigondas can be. Try it, or any of our top wines, and see if you don.t find yourself reaching for a second bottle.
Tasting Report
Notre Dame des Palliès, $25, *** Gigondas Les Mourres 2009
Richly fruity yet fresh, with spicy, complex flavors. (Encore Wine Imports, Syracuse, N.Y.)
Domaine du Gour de Chaulé$26, *** Gigondas CuvéTradition 2007
Lovely, rich berry flavors with spicy, stony, herbal accents. (Rosenthal Wine Merchant, New York)
BEST VALUE
Domaine de Font-Sane, $21, *** Gigondas Tradition 2007
Big, brawny and meaty with fresh, savory flavors of fruit and earth. (Baron Françs, New York)
Pierre Henri Morel Gigondas, $40, ** ½ 2009
Well-balanced blend of fruit and mineral flavors with an added touch of herbs. (Massanois Imports, Washington, D.C.)
Domaine la Bouïiè, $40, ** ½ Gigondas La Font de Tonin 2009
Juicy and concentrated with aromas and flavors of fruit, flowers and menthol. (Michael Skurnik Wines, Syosset, N.Y.)
Les Pierres du Vallat Gigondas, $19, ** ½ 2010
Powerful flavors of juicy, ripe fruit tempered by savory notes. (Fruit of the Vines, Long Island City, N.Y.)
Domaine Saint-Françs-Xavier, $30, ** ½ Gigondas Prestige des Dentelles 2009
Rich, jammy fruit flavors with a suggestion of funk and herbs. (Milton Road Trading, Napa, Calif.)
Perrin & Fils Gigondas La Gille, $29, ** 2007
Balanced and somewhat simple with flavors of ripe fruit and earth. (Vineyard Brands, Birmingham, Ala.)
Domaine du Grapillon d'Or Gigondas, $24, ** 2009
Powerful, jammy fruit flavors with a touch of licorice. (Wineberry America, New York)
Châau Raspail Gigondas, $32, ** 2009
Sturdy tannins and flavors of sweet dark fruit. (Integrity Wines/A Philippe ChivéSelection, New York)
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* Dr. James Ellingson, jellings(a)me.umn.edu *
* mobile : 651/645-0753 *
* Great Lakes Brewing News, 1569 Laurel Ave., St. Paul, MN 55104 *
* james(a)brewingnews.com James.Ellingson(a)StThomas.edu *
Preserving the Language of CôRô
By ERIC ASIMOV
TO most wine drinkers today, the name Marius Gentaz means nothing. But to a devoted cadre of CôRô lovers, no name is more revered.
The wines of Gentaz-Dervieux epitomize the fragile balance among gorgeous, subtle aromas; an earthy, almost animal-like complexity; and elegant, delicate textures that once distinguished this northernmost appellation in the northern RhôValley.
Yet the precious supply of these wines is almost gone. After the 1993 vintage, Mr. Gentaz retired, and he died last year. Collectors hoard a dwindling number of bottles, to be shared on special occasions with a charmed few.
Such is the sad prospect for small family estates without heirs to step in at retirement or death. Throughout the world of wine, legendary names associated with beautiful wines . like NoëVerset of Cornas, Raymond Trollat of St.-Joseph, Giovannini Moresco of Barbaresco and Henri Jayer and Jacky Truchot of Burgundy . are consigned to history once they can no longer make wine.
Yet in CôRô, the story goes deeper. The gradual drinking-up of the Gentaz-Dervieux wines also represents the ebbing of a classic style. Yes, it still has a handful of excellent practitioners, but the profile of CôRô has been, as the wine writer Hugh Johnson once put it, .comprehensively reinterpreted..
Nowadays, rather than a perfumed delicacy, a bottle of CôRô is more likely to be a powerhouse, big and fruity and, especially when young, with the woody patina that comes from aging in new oak barrels. The CôRôs of Guigal epitomize this style. They are excellent wines, but a marked departure from the style that Gentaz-Dervieux and others followed in the past. The lavish praise they.ve received from critics and the high prices they fetch have influenced many.
.Traditionalism is endangered,. said Mannie Berk, president of the Rare Wine Company, a leading wine importer, and a clear advocate for traditional CôRô. .Without greater awareness of the beauty of traditional CôRô, it could be largely gone within a generation..
All over the wine-producing world, the tension between traditional and modern techniques and styles has been well documented. Nowhere has this been more true than in Barolo and Barbaresco in the Piedmont region of Italy, where animosity split the region into two warring camps 25 years ago. Over time, though, the extreme positions softened, and many producers moderated their tone and practices. Partly, Mr. Berk suggested, this was because the vehement debate exposed consumers to the points of contention, allowing them to determine their own preferences.
.There has been no such discussion in CôRô,. he said. .This is very different from Piedmont, where there is a far greater awareness of producers. styles, a fact that I think has been hugely helpful in re-establishing traditionalism there..
In an effort to foster such a discussion, Mr. Berk recently organized a small dinner in New York to explore the various styles of CôRô. In addition to him and several others from Rare Wine, the guests included Stephen Grant, who collects Rhôwines; Peter Sisseck, the proprietor of Dominio de Pingus in Ribera del Duero, whose wines are imported by Rare Wine and who happened to be passing through New York . and me. The wines were selected by Mr. Berk to represent the different styles, and included several from Gentaz-Dervieux.
CôRô is famously translated as .roasted slope,. implying hot weather. In fact, CôRô, a tiny appellation less than 25 miles south of Lyon near the town of Ampuis, may represent the northernmost cool-climate limit for growing the syrah grape. It is dominated by a network of ancient terraced granite vineyards on an impossibly steep slope facing south into the sun, which bathes the vines in light more than in heat.
While the wines of the northern Rhôare esteemed today, 30 years ago they were hardly known. Kermit Lynch, the pioneering importer who first brought the wines of Gentaz-Dervieux to the United States, recalled his first visits to the region in the late 1970s. .It was really about as rustic as it got, the northern Rhô just totally lost in time,. he told me last week. .The American public had never really heard about it, and even in France the reputation was very local..
As the wines became better known, CôRô was naturally compared with Hermitage, its northern Rhôsibling just to the south. In the gender-specific thinking of this Romance-language culture, the more burly, powerful Hermitage was described as masculine, while the more aromatic, delicate CôRô was called feminine.
Enhancing this impression was that, while red wines of the northern Rhôare otherwise 100 percent syrah, CôRô alone is permitted to blend in small amounts of viognier, which can lighten and perfume the wine.
At our dinner, we tasted 16 wines. Starting with six from the 2006 vintage, we went backward in time through two .95s, two .88s, two .83s, two .82s, an .80 and a .78. The idea was to include both traditional and modern interpretations, but it quickly became clear that this dichotomy was too simple, that an entire range of styles was before us.
Two of the .06s were clearly modern. A Jean-Michel Gerin Les Grandes Places was dominated by oak, yet I could detect a pleasing savory scent of roasted meat underneath the sweet veneer. A Christophe Bonnefond Les Rochains was sleek and oaky. But a Yves Cuilleron Terres Sombres, also made with new oak, seemed to offer so much more, with the aroma of violets, bright fruit and bacon. Why?
.It.s made with stems,. Mr. Grant said. .It.s got something going on that you can.t kill with new oak..
In the past, most producers in the northern Rhôfermented their syrah in whole bunches of grapes with stems intact, but today most producers remove the stems, which can add harsh tannins but also a welcome savory element.
The next three .06s were not so modern. A Domaine Jamet was gorgeous: pure, graceful and precise with savory, multifaceted flavors and structure . my kind of CôRô, a wine that could come from nowhere else. A CôBlonde imported by Rare Wine, from Renéostaing (a producer who was a nephew of Mr. Gentaz and took over his vines) was also pure, with an elegant texture and a lovely, clear expression of fruit, including a touch of apricot (possibly from viognier?).
By contrast, a Bernard Levet Journaries showed off the funky side of CôRô with a not-unattractive barnyard aroma that changed in the glass, becoming meaty and floral then funky again. This was perhaps a sign of reduction, a quality in wine that comes from a lack of exposure to air. Syrah is prone to reduction, especially when made the old-fashioned way. The trick for winemakers is to manage it so that it does not mar the wine permanently.
Now it was time to head backward. A .95 Jamet, 11 years older than the .06, seemed paradoxically less ready to drink. Even so, its elegance, balance and beauty were apparent. A .95 Pierre Barge CôBrune was more rustic, lovely but lacking the precise aromas and flavors of the Jamet. An .88 Jasmin was corked, sadly. The next wine was an .88 from Gentaz-Dervieux.
Please forgive the gushing, but what a brilliant wine: aromatically beautiful, complex and graceful, with flavors that lingered long after I swallowed. This wine was not an expression of power, but of elegance and finesse, and it had many years left to it. If wines could still be made like this, why aren.t they?
Mr. Lynch described Mr. Gentaz as a simple-spoken farmer, with a cement fermentation tank, a wooden press and old barrels in a garage. It.s a local model that perhaps has little place in a globalized business.
The future was represented by an .83 Guigal La Mouline. It had an alluring aroma of licorice and smoked meat, but even at almost 30 years of age, oak tannins were still apparent on the palate. An excellent wine for sure, but a world away from the Gentaz-Dervieux.
I won.t mention every other wine that we tasted. Significantly, an .82 Rostaing La Landonne was beautiful, and an .82 Gentaz-Dervieux might have been even more transcendent than the .88 (though a 1980 was corked).
A few producers still work in the Gentaz vein, like Levet and Barge. Far more CôRôs are in the modern style, like the Guigal, Gerin and Bonnefond. But a bright middle exists as well, with producers like Rostaing, Jamet and possibly even Cuilleron. These wines may not be traditional in the Gentaz sense, but they are what John Livingstone-Learmonth, the author of .The Wines of the Northern Rhô. calls .genuine CôRô,. which he told me was alive and well.
Still, I can.t help feeling both honored to have drunk those Gentaz-Dervieux wines and melancholy that the world now has fewer bottles ahead of it.
.There.s not a wine on the planet I.d rather have if given the choice,. Wells Guthrie, the proprietor of Copain Wine Cellars in California, told me recently. It should be noted that Mr. Guthrie.s Twitter handle is @Gentaz_rulz.
FEBRUARY 7, 2012, 11:54 AM
Why Syrah Hasn.t Caught On in America
By ERIC ASIMOV
Evan Sung for The New York Times
.Why don.t Americans drink syrah?. This question came up recently at a dinner devoted to exploring the wines of CôRô, one of the world.s benchmark syrah wines. My column this week considers the various styles of CôRô, and inherent in the piece, I think, are some answers worth pondering.
First of all, I think we asked the wrong question. The real issue is why Americans don.t buy syrah. This question has caused great heartache and controversy, especially in the California syrah business, which I explored in detail a couple of years ago.
The CôRô dinner raised the issue again because the wines before us were so gorgeous and had such distinctive characters. We focused on the spectrum of CôRô styles available today, from traditional producers like Bernard Levet to modern producers like Yves Cuilleron. Then we went back in time, drinking some of the foremost examples of the modern style, like an .83 Guigal La Mouline, and great examples of traditional CôRô, culminating in several bottles from the legendary Marius Gentaz.
All these wines demonstrate the rewards of properly merging grape and place. In the wines of Gentaz-Dervieux, the story of the 20th-century culture of CôRô shines through pure and unalloyed. You could argue that the wines of Guigal convey the story of Guigal as much as the story of CôRô, but the character of the land remained.
Certainly, Americans buy CôRô when made by Guigal. They.ll even pay hundreds of dollars a bottle. These can be great wines, though perhaps atypical. But I fear that their stylistic legacy . ultra-ripe syrah fruit and lots of new oak flavor, especially when made with grapes from less distinctive sites by less experienced winemakers . results in too many wines of little character. This, I suggest, is why American don.t buy a lot of syrah: Too many of the wines seem generic, a blend of fruit and oak that may be vaguely pleasant but could come from anywhere and be made of any grape.
Conversely, the best American syrahs, in my opinion, are made by producers who have been inspired by the great traditionalists of the northern Rhô Talk to Nathan Roberts or Duncan Meyers of Arnot-Roberts, which makes great California syrah, and they want to talk about Raymond Trollat, who made such wonderful St.-Josephs before he retired.
Wines by Trollat and other Rhôluminaries like Auguste Clape of Cornas speak in a far broader vocabulary than simply fruit and oak. They are savory testimony to the complex character of syrah when it is grown in the proper place. By the way, not all of the northern Rhôis the proper place. Appellations have been unconscionably expanded to include areas that are not at all suitable for good wine, or rather, distinctive wine.
Obviously, California is not the northern Rhô The soils, climate and other conditions are different. But the sorts of savory flavors achieved by the best syrah producers in the Rhôcan at least suggest what qualities make syrah distinctive, and what educated consumers might want in the wines.
That.s my short answer to the question of why Americans don.t buy syrah. What are your thoughts?
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* Dr. James Ellingson, jellings(a)me.umn.edu *
* mobile : 651/645-0753 *
* Great Lakes Brewing News, 1569 Laurel Ave., St. Paul, MN 55104 *
* james(a)brewingnews.com James.Ellingson(a)StThomas.edu *
>From the SFGC
Germany's 2010 wines: a year of intense mystery
Jon Bonnéunday, January 29, 2012
Most vintages give you a story line. It was good. It was bad. A year for nerds. A year for pleasure.
For months, the story of Germany in 2010 has left me dumbstruck. The wines can be electrifying one moment, wan the next. They never taste the same twice. The only conclusion: It was a bizarro year, unlike any other in recent memory.
Importer Terry Theise says: "2010 is a vintage that sends us all back to school."
What happened? Awful flowering and fruit set and a cool summer created a prospect for disaster. And then in September came a glorious warm spell. The remaining tiny, thick-skinned grapes presaged an intense vintage.
Then something nutty occurred: While grape acidity typically falls away as harvest sugar peaks, this time the two kept rising in tandem. Growers had gloriously ripe grapes with freakish acid levels.
That meant they were faced with an option many hadn't considered in a generation: deacidifying their wines. Doing so is relatively simple: You treat a portion of wine, possibly with calcium carbonate - think antacid - but more likely a mix of two salts that targets the sharp flavors of malic acid.
But just how to do it was a matter of much consternation among Germany's generally fastidious winemakers: Treat fresh juice before fermentation, or wait until afterward? Use just calcium or what the Germans call doppelsaltz? Winemaker parents old enough to remember the routine use of these techniques before the 1990s were peppered with questions.
If Riesling is typically a pristine vehicle for expressing its origins, the 2010s received enough tinkering that tasting them raises a whole new set of questions.
"I don't like to talk about winemaking," says vintner Johannes Leitz, who had to deacidify some wines even though his Rheingau village of Rudesheim historically gets the lowest acidity levels in the area. "But in 2010, you had to know what you were doing in the cellar."
Thus the wines vary enormously. The best are outright glorious, with two decades or more of potential. Even those are austere in their beauty, showing an almost unreal level of flavor. Others are not just weak but regrettably atypical, a reminder of Germany's fortune with the past decade of vintages. As such, the 2010s have become more than the result of an uneven vintage - they are a referendum on the identity of German Riesling.
That is a tough topic, because Germany's diverse range of Riesling styles is already a thicket. Think you know what separates the Spatlesen from the Kabinetts? The 2010s force you to suspend expectations. Acid levels are so high that many wines that are sweet according to the numbers actually taste dry.
At their best, these wines are remarkably complex. The side benefit of turning flavors up to 11 is that all the nuances that make Riesling the finest white wine have been put through a magnifying lens. In part, that's because those tiny grapes created extreme levels of something only Germans seem to discuss in wine: dry extract, or a wine's stuffing - what's left if you remove the alcohol and water.
"It's the highest dry extracts that I've encountered in 30 years in this business," importer Rudi Wiest says.
Moreover, many profound wines are masquerading as simpler ones. That's not unique this year; growers often declassify sweet Riesling, selling more intense Spatlese as Kabinett, but in 2010, the quality leaps were severe.
Johannes Selbach, a key vintner in the Mosel region, recalled one Spatlese that landed at 135 Oechsle (about 40 percent more than a typical wine grape), far above the level of 110 required to be considered the intensely sweet, rare wine known as Beerenauslese.
Yet beauty didn't necessarily follow. After tasting examples for several months, I was joined for a final panel of more than 40 wines by John Vuong, wine director of Ame in San Francisco; and Eric Story, who buys German wine for K&L Wine Merchants.
Our session was philosophically trying, yielding notes like "tastes like 90 percent of a great wine." Vintners whose quality is typically unwavering, like Von Hovel, offered wines that were a combination of beautiful, expected elements - a fusel oil aroma from its parcels near the Saar tributary of the Mosel - and frustratingly incomplete ones.
Did this mean we didn't like the wines? Hardly. We have a bounty of recommendations - but sometimes unexpected ones. The dry Rieslings of Rheingau producer Robert Weil, for instance, outpaced its usually epic sweet wines. The medium-dry from Nahe producer Schafer-Frohlich, a style which can be noncommittal, was stunning.
Because the vintage yielded so little fruit, there's not much wine to go around, and growers are starting to send their 2011s to store shelves. At first glance, the new vintage offers pretty and engaging wines. In its charm, it avoids the ridiculous peaks and valleys of 2010.
"Comparing them side by side," Selbach concludes, "is like a house cat and a wildcat."
On the label
While 2010 confounded many of these designations, here's a quick primer on German terms that describe a wine's style:
QbA: Usually an estate's basic wine, which can describe a good everyday bottle and sometimes beyond.
Kabinett: The first level of Pradikat, or superior, wines, which are determined by the grapes' sugar levels. Kabinett wines typically are lighter and sweet, although increasingly are declassified wines from riper grapes.
Spatlese: Literally "late harvest," indicating a riper, sweeter style.
Auslese and beyond: "Selected harvest," from very ripe grapes and capable of long aging. Beyond that lie the intensely sweet Beerenauslese and Trockenbeerenauslese. There's also Eiswine, from grapes frozen on the vine.
Trocken: Dry wine.
Halbtrocken: Literally "half dry." A slightly off-dry style.
Jon Bonnés The Chronicle's wine editor. Find him at jbonne(a)sfchronicle.com or @jbonne on Twitter.
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2012/01/29/FDOD1MU0T5.DTL
2010 German Rieslings: The Chronicle Recommends
Sunday, January 29, 2012
On the label
While 2010 confounded many of these designations, here's a quick primer on German terms that describe a wine's style:
QbA: Usually an estate's basic wine, which can describe a good everyday bottle and sometimes beyond.
Kabinett: The first level of Pradikat, or superior, wines, which are determined by the grapes' sugar levels. Kabinett wines typically are lighter and sweet, although increasingly are declassified wines from riper grapes.
Spatlese: Literally "late harvest," indicating a riper, sweeter style.
Auslese and beyond: "Selected harvest," from very ripe grapes and capable of long aging. Beyond that lie the intensely sweet Beerenauslese and Trockenbeerenauslese. There's also Eiswine, from grapes frozen on the vine.
Trocken: Dry wine.
Halbtrocken: Literally "half dry." A slightly off-dry style.
Here's a selection of 2010 German Rieslings. Although sugar levels were deceiving in 2010, the wines are listed in approximate order of increasing sweetness.
2010 Dreissigacker Trocken Rheinhessen Riesling ($16, 12% alcohol):
This up-and-coming house sources its dry wine from organically farmed parcels around Bechtheim. Here's evidence of the Rheinhessen's abilities with a dry style: Slippery soapstone and exotic fruit with a subtlety in the texture. (Importer: Terrell Wines)
2010 Robert Weil Kiedrich Turmberg Trocken Rheingau Riesling ($54, 13%):
Weil's dry offerings seemed stronger this time, including this deeply textured take on the Turmberg site. The 13 percent alcohol is a tip to the ripeness, and yet it's finessed and packed with dense apricot fruit, accented by iris and parsley. (Importer: Loosen Bros.)
2010 Schafer-Frohlich Medium Dry Nahe Riesling ($24, 11.5%):
Not to dismiss Tim Frohlich's grand Felseneck bottling, but this style, which often seems stranded between dry and sweet, is beautifully precise in this wacky year. Sharp stone and lemongrass accents, matched by plush nectar fruit and deep, concentrated flavors. (Importer: Rudi Wiest Selections/Cellars Intl.)
2010 Von Schubert Maximin Grunhauser Mosel Riesling QbA ($25, 11%):
Wines from this top Ruwer estate are often shut down at first, but this estate bottle is open and energetic, filled with white stone, ginger, lime zest and quince. Its impressive weight reveals a hint of sweetness to match dazzling acidity. (Importer: Loosen Bros.)
2010 Egon Muller Scharzhof Mosel Riesling QbA ($26, 10%):
Muller is a major landholder in the Saar's Scharzhofberg vineyard. Even his basic QbA (which taps nearby parcels) lasts a decade. This is the best in years. Just shy of dry, it's packed with lime leaf, cardamom, white tea and intense citrus. (Importer: Frederick Wildman & Sons)
2010 A.J. Adam Dhron Hofberg Mosel Riesling Kabinett ($33, 8%):
Andreas Adam's indigenously fermented wines showcase this tiny middle Mosel village. But they can have a quiet phase, as with the 2010 Hofberg. Petrol and citrus-pith aromas show an invigorating side, and the ripe apricot and anise flavors have a polished texture. A deep wine in need of cellar age. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
2010 J.J. Prum Mosel Riesling Kabinett ($25, 8.5%):
A surprisingly ready-to-drink entry from Prum, Germany's most renowned producer. The snap in this basic Kabinett from several parcels is amazing; it tastes so dry that I had to double-check the label. A frisson of acidity and peach-nectar sweetness, with celery, stone and freesia accents, makes for a drama queen of a wine. (Importer: Valckenberg Intl.)
2010 Reuscher-Haart Piesporter Goldtropfchen Mosel Riesling Kabinett ($22, 8%):
This old-fashioned house in fashionable Piesport hit the jackpot in 2010, with a brooding Goldtropfchen full of dark stone and caramelized peach-tart flavors. Amazingly concentrated, with clementine and chervil and clover honey, and deep acidity to balance. Age it. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
2010 Karthauserhof Eitelsbacher Karthauserhofberg Mosel Riesling Kabinett ($30, 9%):
A curious take on Karthauserhof, drier than it might be, but not quite halbtrocken. Subtle aromas of talc, jasmine tea, mandarin and quince, in a surprisingly approachable style that doesn't sacrifice its extraordinary length. (Importer: Rudi Wiest/Cellars International)
2010 Eugen Muller Forster Mariengarten Pfalz Riesling Kabinett ($18, 10%):
This little-known label is worth tracking, based on this subtle but promising bottle. The basalt soils exude that exotic Pfalz character: Indian spice and dark stone amid citrus and ripe pear. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
2010 Von Buhl Armand Pfalz Riesling Kabinett ($20, 7.5%):
Von Buhl uses early-drinking Armand as its calling card. In a vintage of serious flavors, this exudes a vivacious side - citrus, cassia and ripe pear, with a stony edge - while still manifesting 2010's dense extract. (Importer: Rudi Wiest Selections/Cellars Intl.)
2010 Bastgen Kestener Paulinshofberg Mosel Riesling Spatlese ($23, 8%):
Armin Vogel and his wife, Mona Bastgen, work a less-known part of the Mosel near famous Piesport. From this riverside parcel comes a beautifully balanced Spatlese, with juicy tree fruit flavors, intense honey (like its neighboring village), oregano and lacy talc. Truly promising. (Importer: Kysela Pere et Fils)
2010 Leitz Rudesheimer Magdalenenkreuz Rheingau Riesling Spatlese ($22, 7.5%):
Johannes Leitz is the Rheingau's emergent star. His approachable Magdalenenkreuz, from a loess parcel on Rudesheim's eastern edge, is especially fine-boned and honeyed this year. Freesia, lime rickey, apricot jam and sweet spice, with a subtle darker mineral side. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
2010 Strub Niersteiner Pettenthal Rheinhessen Riesling Spatlese ($28, 10%):
Two things of note here: a sweet wine from the slatey "Red Slope" outside Nierstein, typically a source for dry wine; and the influence of young Sebastian Strub, who did a stint at Donnhoff. The Rheinhessen's melon and papaya flavors, channeled through Mosel-level acidity and honeycomb. You almost chew this. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
2010 Selbach-Oster Zeltinger Himmelreich Anrecht Mosel Riesling ($36, 8.5%):
Johannes Selbach has embraced a new concept: bottling individual parcels not by sweetness levels but simply by the block name - in this case Anrecht. It falls near an Auslese, but it's more a push from a steel glove: full of white tea, chalk, citrus pith and green apple, with deep richness and even deeper acidity. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
2010 Merkelbach Erdener Treppchen Mosel Riesling Auslese ($26, 11%):
This tiny old-school property in Urzig turned out astonishing sweet wines, including this one from iron-rich Treppchen. Technically a Beerenauslese, but lightened by dramatic acidity. Chewy and powerful, with soapstone, kaffir lime and ginger notes amid honeyed apricot. (Importer: A Terry Theise Selection/Michael Skurnik Wines)
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2012/01/29/FD9C1MUBQ9.DTL
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