The Evolution of a Wine Critic – James Laube and Mayacamas Vineyards

While visiting a local bookstore that sells mainly used books (yes, they exist), my mother phoned me to see if she should pick up a few older wine books for me.  My usual response to my mother, wife, and others looking to pick up wine books that I don’t already own is “buy what you think looks interesting, but there is a chance that I already have them.”  This time around, however, my mother hit gold picking up a few books that aren’t already stocked in my library.  One of the books she picked up, California’s Great Cabernets from James Laube, was originally published in 1989.  It’s a great resource in gaining perspective on some of the old-school styles of Cabernet that have fallen out of fashion.  And it also highlights how critic’s tastes change over time.

One winery that I immediately read up on in Laube’s book is Mayacamas Vineyards.  To make a long story short, Mayacamas  hasn’t changed much in decades of wine making.  They have not changed their style, attitude or packaging.  Tucked away on Mount Veeder, they make wines that need time to come around and when drunk in their youth, can be a touch backward and/or unforgiving.  A different story and experience opens up in the bottle after a few years of aging.  About the only thing that has changed at Mayacamas over the past 20 years or so is the steady decline in their scores from writers such as Laube.  And like many wine makers who stick their guns, I believe that the Travers family doesn’t care much about not receiving 90+ points from outlets such as the Wine Spectator – they still sell their wine to those that love their style and people like me work on creating converts* for a style of Cabernet that has been replaced by a more modern flashier style.

This flashier, overly spoofed, Frankenwine style hasn’t always been in fashion.  As Laube points out in Cabernets

“Mayacamas Vineyards is legendary for its distinctive, intensely flavored, austere and tannic mountain-grown Cabernets.  It’s reputation for producing amazingly complex, long-lived wines is well deserved, for Mayacamas Cabernets typically take a decade or longer to mature fully and shed their tanning veneer… Once they do mature, the Mayacamas Cabernets are as rich, complex, and structured as any of those produced in California.  Because of their great depth, concentration of fruit, firm, hard tannins and slow development, Mayacamas has inspired both a cult following that buys the wine through a winery mailing list and skeptics who question whether the wines will evolve, much less into greatness.**”  

From his comments at the beginning of the quote, it seems obvious as to which side of the debate Laube found himself 25 years ago.  In the header to the winery profile in his book, Laube also classified Mayacamas Vineyards as a California “First Growth” with a collectibility rating of “AAA”

Today, however, Laube sings a different tune.  As I combed through reviews of Mayacamas from the 90s (last Cabernet from the estate to be reviewed by WS was 1998), Laube seemed much less enthusiastic about what was in the bottle.****

1998 – 87 points. Herb, dill and cedary Cabernet notes override modest dried currant, mineral and pebble notes in this mature, well-balanced wine. At a nice drinking stage.–1998
California Cabernet retrospective. (from 2009 review)

1997 – 83 points. Dry and austere, with mature, earthy dried cranberry, currant, fresh earth and mineral flavors, ending with dry earthy tannins.–’97 California Cabernet retrospective (from 2008 review)

1995 – 75 points. Stalky green bean aromas and flavors make this a wine for fans of the style. Dry, earthy tannins make it even less interesting to drink.–1995 California Cabernet retrospective. (from 2005 review)

1990 – 85 points. Leans toward the herbal spectrum of Cabernet with a stalky, green edge to the currant and berry notes. Picks up a coffee and cedar edge and turns tannic on the finish. (reviewed in 1995)

I don’t care much for scores, but it’s interesting that Laube no longer lauds the dry, earthy and firm tannins that he thought once made the estate’s wines worthy of high praise.  Perhaps these scores is why we saw a dramatic change in the cult Cabernet style that took shape in the 90s as winemakers moved towards more lush, fruit forward wines with more supple tannins.  Or wine critics were seduced by this change in style and followed accordingly with a new wave of 95+ scores as wine making became less concerned with the vineyard and more tied into science in the winery.

On a final note, there are a couple of reviews from Laube that for me, illustrates how ridiculous wine scoring systems can be.  Below are two different reviews for both the 1983 and 1984 – the first review for each wine taken from his book (for which he tasted the wines between September 1988 and May 1989) and the second review taken from the Wine Spectator online archive.

1983 Mayacamas Cabernet Sauvignon

Tannic and intense, this is one of the better balanced 1983s.  Promises a long life in the bottle, with enough rich, ripe currant and black cherry flavors to stand up tot he dry, hard tannins.  Nowhere ready to drink, this one will require another decade, probably longer, before the tannins subside. Drink 1997-2005. 90 Points***

——

Tart and tannic with earthy plum, olive and cedary, cigar box flavors are hard and firm. It’s true to form for an ’83; needs time to smooth out. Tasted September 15, 1988. 80 Points

1984 Mayacamas Cabernet Sauvignon

Light and fruity for a Mayacamas but typical of the vintage, this wine has bright ripe blueberry and jammy plum notes, but it is not nearly as tannic or structured as most Mayacamas Cabernets.  it will be ready sooner but will also age well.  Drink 1994-2000.  90 Points***

——

Tarter and lighter than most ’84s, with smoke, pepper and fresh berry flavors, almost like a Zin. Simple, decent but unexciting. Missing the intensity and concentration you expect from Mayacamas. Drink 1992. Tasted three times. From April 15, 1989 issue80 Points

Both wines were reviewed at least twice within the same 6-8 month window.  These reviews could be of any wine made from anywhere in the world – it just jumped out at me while I was researching the scores for more recent Mayacamas vintages.  Though I intended to write this as a short piece on how critic’s scores can change (or be shaped by what’s current in the high fashion of wine), it’s once again obvious to me how assigning points to wine can be a very delicate and unreliable at best, endeavor.  How did Laube change his scores by 10 points within such a shore time frame?  I am sure this happens all of the time as tasting wines blind is a fun exercise to keep your identification skills sharp, but to score wines this way (or any way I can think of) is both silly and unrepresentative of what’s inside of the bottle.

*I represent Mayacamas Vineyards through David Bowler Wine in New York and New Jersey.

** California’s Great Cabernets - James Laube, p. 253.

*** Ibid. p. 254.

**** www.winespectator.com

A Sense of Time and Place – Sunday Spring in the Garden State

Spring is here in the Garden State.  We had a few days of 80+ degree days a few weeks ago, a few sporadic snow showers a couple of days after that and then it was gray and moist, but with little rain since.  For us here at Chez Kafarski – the unofficial beginning of Spring.  Tiffany and I worked in the garden for a good part of the weekend as we picked one of our favorite cold weather crops – radishes – while we brought down our seedlings for the summer – tomatoes and peppers. And we dare not forget to give thanks for all of the meals given to us by our kale as they have flowered and will soon be gone to seed.

And just when you thought you put your flannel sheets away for the season, we also planted gourds and a seed from last year’s 1,800 pound pumpkin (not ours, but that would have been a lot of pie).  And while we worked in the garden, we sipped a rosé from one of our favorite producers – Will Bucklin.  The Grenache based, salmon hued selection was just what the doctor ordered – a refreshing and bright Spring wine, but with enough grip to keep us warm as the cool evening breeze swept through.

Our Bucklin Rosé Seeds Finally Sprouted in the Kohlrabi Bed

Freshly Picked Radishes

Pumpkin Looking Forward to a Summer Full of Sunshine

Tomato Seedlings Almost Ready to Go Into the Ground

Kale Flowering

Missing the Point with Costco

In case you haven’t noticed it spreading like wildfire on your favorite wine blogs, last week bloggers (myself included) tweeted and posted that the wine buyer for Costco, Annette Alvarez-Peters, asserted in an interview with CNBC, that wine isn’t more special than clothing, televisions or toilet paper and, “….at the end of the day, it’s a beverage.”  At first, I was annoyed by Alvarez-Peters’ comments.  However, while waiting for an appointment yesterday afternoon, I realized that the backlash against Alvarez-Peters, though deserved, is a little misguided.  And frankly, for wine professionals to be shocked that a major wine buyer feels this way is a little disconcerting because I think many of us sometimes miss the point of what’s going on in the wider consumer wine world.

Most Americans shop at Costco, Walmart, Target, Marshalls, Best Buy, so on and so forth.   And as is the case with just about anything in the marketplace, a large number of wine consumers choose their wine based on two criteria – familiarity and price.  And the Costco model provides their customers with wines that match these two requirements – they often have the best prices and there isn’t much wine from unknown appellations stacked near the frozen fish aisle.  With this perspective (which almost none of the wine writers who have protested the comments of Ms. Alvarez-Peters share) in mind, it’s quite easy to understand how someone who runs one of the most cut-throat discount big-box warehouse chains in the world can compare wine to other commodities within the store.

Though sometimes we don’t remember, we wine geeks live in a bit of an insulated bubble as most heady wine shops are located in New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Los Angeles and other major metropolitan areas.  Through the tireless efforts of boutique wine shops owners in these locales, there has never been a great influx of California Zinfandel, old vines Muscadet, semi-oxidized Rioja and countless other wines that capture their sense of place with such accurate vibrancy that one of these great bottles can give me the chills.  I care deeply about these wines, as do many of you.  But we are in the minority when it comes to filling our glasses with one of these delights.  Most people just want a glass of red or white – or as Alavarez-Peters terms it – a simple beverage.  Don’t waste your time being offended, taken aback, shocked or dismayed about her comments.  Instead, take what she says as a lesson learned that we have a lot more wood to chop in communicating our message to the masses that many of the wines at outlets like Costo aren’t worth the glass they’re bottled in, while turning them onto to something more exciting and fulfilling.  Now that would be time well spent.

An Afternoon on Mount Eden

This past weekend I was lucky enough to sneak off to Mount Eden Vineyards in the Santa Cruz Mountains.  Before we attended a wedding in Campbell, my wife and I met with the fine folks at Mount Eden and took a brief tour before the heavens opened over the hills of Saratoga.  I have written about Mount Eden before (available on the old site here), but in brief, the winery and its vineyards are situated in a fairly quiet and still relatively unknown neighborhood.  Located only a stone’s throw (and incredibly steep climb up a dirt road) away from downtown Saratoga, the views from Mount Eden are nothing short of breathtaking.  Perhaps only slightly less fascinating than the views was the weather.  In the hour or so we spent at the winery – it was warm and sunny, cold and windy, wet and warm, then finally cool and sunny again.

Though these pictures were taken on an old digital and don’t do the area justice, it should give you an idea as to why Mount Eden has been labeled “Vineyards in the Sky” more than once.  And as for the wines?  Pick up a bottle of their Chardonnay, Pinot Noir or Cabernet Sauvignon and after a glass or two, a sense of place from their roots on the steep hillsides should become evident.  Harvested from dry farmed vines, the struggle is for the vines to survive and visitors to get up the hill to the winery – not for the wine drinker to understand how something so delicious can wind up in their glass.

Please Click on Images to Enlarge

The Last Flat Piece of Land for 2 Miles

A Little Shade While it Was Still Warm

Once a Home to Martin Ray

Gardens

Purple Stuff Not Grown in New Jersey
Perhaps Indigo?

More Stuff I Can't Normally Grow in Our Garden

Daffodils Watching Over Hillside Chardonnay and Pinot Noir

Eventually the Vines Meet That Tree

Seems Flat Until You Fall Off of the Hill

Rain Coming in the Distance

South SF Bay in the Distance With Tux Tending Vineyards

Ridge Montebello Vineyard Across the Way

A Pruning Phenom

Mrs. WCP and Tux Squaring Off

Tiffany Pretending Not to Be Freezing

Yours Truly and Tux

Could Easily Be a Guatemalan Descent

I’m Certain That Not All Retailers Are Driven by Scores

Yesterday I was reading through the wine news that I have funneled into my inbox and came across a story by Steve Heimofff regarding the influence that wine ratings hold over the consumer.  I took issue with one broad generalization from the middle of his article:

“Consumers dare not buy anything unless it has the imprimateur of a critic.”

With the hopes of engaging Steve in a bit of conversation over the Twitterverse, I mentioned his quote, prompting a response from Steve that seemed in my opinion, even more shortsighted – “It’s not a generalization, ask any retailer.”  Though I don’t take Steve as a fool and actually regard his writing as professional and earnest, it irks me when writers like Steve attempt to paint trends in the wine market with sweeping strokes.  Any wine critic could have (and has) said the same thing, but it just so happened that Steve said it this time.

I visit between 25-35 retail stores each week.  As I work for a distributor by day, I pay the rent through commission from sales.  And I admit, a portion of my income comes from easy sales based on nothing else than points from critics.  As fickle markets go, New Jersey is near the top with many retail shelves plastered with shelf talkers referencing scores from any number of wine critics.  And without naming names, some of these stores put up shelf talkers that are based on scores conjured up from thin air.  It’s fair to say that these less noble efforts are seldom rewarded by the public as many of these wines languish.

Fake scores aside, there are a large number of discounters who cannot sell wine without using words from others to move their inventory.  However, my best accounts – for our purposes here those which generate the most revenue for my company – do not use scores of any sort to sell their wine.  They buy what they want to sell after sampling what I have to offer.  They then learn about the winery, the region, the winemaker and figure out how to best position that wine into their store.  Sure, some of these stores jumped on the crazes surrounding offerings from 2007 Chateauneuf-du-Pape and 2009 Burgundy, but for the most part, scores do not drive their business model.  And we aren’t talking about just small mom and pop shops with 100 SKUs – there is also a lack of scores in stores that have thousands of selections stocking their shelves.

Without making my own sweeping generalization, I find that the stores in New York and New Jersey that rely most heavily on scores don’t have anything else to say for themselves about their wines.  It’s much easier for them to have easily printable pieces of point of sale dangling underneath their wines for quick reference as their unknowing customers gaze helplessly among dozens of selections along a wall of California Cabernet or Bordeaux.  And just so we are clear as to how I feel about this method of salesmanship, though effective and profitable for some, I think it’s incredibly lazy and impersonal.  It is often, but not always, a signal that besides one or two people on the floor, there aren’t many staff members who know much about the wine on their shelves.

I am not naïve.  The wine market on a whole is driven by handshakes, deals, and money.  Some of the most successful wines in the market have absolutely nothing to do with sense of place, romance or frankly, what’s in the bottle.  However, passion, not points, drive fine wines sales.  I see it every day.  And going back to yesterday’s short interaction on Twitter with Steve, he responded to my offering of passion over points in sales with this an odd response: “What does that mean? Where does the ‘passion’ come from? What instigates it?”  Though we may not share the same tastes in wine, I know Steve understands how passion can affect the success of a wine in the market.  I offered that this passion comes from understanding and believing in a wine’s sense of place.  And understanding more than just what an influential critic thinks about a wine is critical unless wine is to be treated like any other tradable market commodity.  In fact, perhaps the misconception that critic’s scores drive the entire wine market comes from the stacking of offerings from brands that rely more on marketing than substance.  Powerful marketing combined with a generous score or two, can catapult a wine from obscurity to the cover of international publications.  However, this path to success for a winemaker isn’t necessarily the most common one.  Many rely on retailers, sommeliers and word of mouth to spread their message in the bottle.  And thankfully, I am a willing participant in selling, drinking and recommending them.

What is Minerality? Maybe We Can Learn from a Crocus

A few months ago, I offered a rather rudimentary drawing that maps out what I think might be the process by which minerality expresses itself in a finished wine.  A contentious issue, the debate over the existence of minerality in a wine is one in which I want to dedicate more time pursuing.  However, there simply isn’t tough in the day for me to read as much as I’d like about the topic.  In the meantime, after a long run this afternoon, I came home to rest in my garden and sat near a crocus – a delicate harbinger that Spring is near in New Jersey.  As I fiddled with the crocus and checked on the soil in the tomato garden, I had a thought.  A crocus, like a grapevine, an orange tree or just about anything organic (little o), the plant and flower is nothing more than the sum of various parts of its micro-environment – sun, water, soil, minerals, elements, etc… With that premise being accepted as true, then there must be at least trace amounts of its environment within its structure – water, acids, sugars and minerals.  What’s in the soil and air must also be in the plant – on some level, at least.  Therefore, could the same could be said for grapes – they are also the sum of various parts working together to form the vine, flowers and fruit.  And like a crocus, minerals, water, sunlight and chemical applications (or lack thereof hopefully) all must affect what’s constitutes the final makeup of a grape and its subsequent juice before being manipulated (at whatever level) in the winery.

Therefore, if we accept that these different environmental factors contribute to the physical constitution of a grape, can’t we assume that there is some form of inherent minerality within the grape as well?  And our ability to perceive minerality is based, at least in part, on how much is transferred from the soil to the grape without being marred by various other factors, such as chemical fertilizer, overly ripe fruity characteristics and heavy handed manipulation in the winery.  Perhaps the difficulty in understanding if minerality exists is that we are looking in the wrong place for our answers.  A pedologist would claim that chalk isn’t inherent in a bunch of Chardonnay grapes harvest from the Les Clos vineyard in Chablis.  That may be so – but perhaps as the vine grows and producers fruit, there is an uptake of something within the soil that triggers our ability to perceive soil characteristics in the finished wine.  And instead of looking for traces of what constitutes the soil in the wine, we should instead look for other qualities in the grape that might cause those elements to be perceived.

Perhaps all of these questions can be easily answered by science and my backyard philosophical rumination is a bit antiquated.  But I am not so sure that what’s in the soil is absent from wines that I drink – just as the crocuses that are popping up in my tomato garden are nothing more than various factors in nature working harmoniously to produce a flower very specific to that particular sense of time and place.

Backyard Crocus

The World Famous Tomato Garden Crocus

Stand Up to The Importers Behind “At Rest” Legislation in New York

For those of you who do not know, I work for a wine importer that distributes wine to New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania.  I don’t often mention my work nor write about the wines we distribute as I like to keep the affairs of The Wine Culture Project separate.  However, it’s impossible for me to ignore a political issue that could greatly affect the company for which I work.  David Bowler Wine, like many other importers in the NY metropolitan area, is a fairly small outfit that works on bringing wines from curious places to your local store and favorite restaurant.  We sell not only wine, but also the story, the winemaker and a sense of place – all of which makes wine interesting by setting it apart from so many other agricultural products in the marketplace.

Though the romance of wine makes the business more interesting than most, it’s still a business.  Currently, there is proposed legislation in New York that would not only severely hamper our ability to do business, but could lead to higher prices for our products and potentially put our company out of business.  The proposed legislation includes a provision termed “at rest.”  In a nutshell, the provision would require any distributor selling wine in the state of New York ship their wine from a warehouse in New York State.  Most distributors in that operate in New York house their wine in New Jersey as multiple small distributors share warehouse space together as their portfolios aren’t big enough to warrant their own warehouse in either New York or New Jersey.

The “at rest” provision is nothing less than a direct attempt by the largest wine distributors to put smaller importers and distributors out of business.  This continued work to monopolize the wine market by the largest, most capitalized and politically influential distributors has the potential to have catastrophic effects not only for companies like the one I work for, but will also lead to higher prices for consumers, decreased tax revenue for the state of New York and would greatly reduce the number of selections that consumers can choose from in retail stores and restaurant wine lists.  The distributors behind the legislation claim that the bill will protect union warehouse jobs and lead to increased revenue.  I am the son of a retired union chairman and I know a pile of bullshit when I see one.  No union jobs are at risk of being lost by wine distributors warehousing and shipping their wine from New Jersey – this pseudo-justification for the “at rest” provision is nothing more than a veiled attempt by the largest fish in the pond to swallow up the smaller distributors and monopolize the market.

I am not a resident of New York, I live in the sunny Garden State across the river.  I can’t do much about this issue but help bring awareness to something that is so overtly antithetical to what I love about the wine business  – bringing interesting products to customers who desire something a little less ordinary.  Please click on this link below and sign the petition telling the State of New York that the “at rest” is bad not only for business, but could lead to the loss of jobs for scores of my friends and colleagues.*

 

*At no point did David Bowler, anyone affiliated with David Bowler Wine or any other importer/distributor ask me to post the above article.  I work for a great company that brings real wine, made by real people to your table.  Please help me fight the bastards who threaten our ability to do so.

 

Defining Traditional, Modern and Natural Wines

Over my third espresso this morning I read yet another wine writer claim that there isn’t a definition for natural wine.  Sure there is, just as much as there is a clearly defined understanding of traditional and modern wines.  These terms have been around longer and are better understood by critics and consumers.  Since natural wines have become more popular in the marketplace, an acceptance of the premises behind what constitute them has been preempted by a vitriolic conversation as to their worth.  Below are my Monday morning definitions of traditional, modern and natural wines. They seem pretty straightforward and reasonable to me.

Traditional Wines

Wines that are produced using methods which are understood as traditional in a particular growing region.  These methods in the vineyard include, but are not limited to:  grape selection, pruning methods, vine spacing, adherence to yield restrictions, handling of harvested grapes, harvest dates and treatment for disease on the vine and within the soil.  In the winery, methods such as oak treatment, acidification, chaptalization, use of sulfur, yeast selection, fining, filtration and bottling are all practices that a traditional winemaker understands through the lens of the past within that particular wine making region.  These winemakers, though not always relegated to Old World regions, suggest that place is paramount to an international style being cultivated by their more modern-leaning winemaking counterparts.

Modern Wines

Wines that are produced using methods which are understood as modern for a particular growing region.  These methods in the vineyards include, but are not limited to:  selecting grapes that aren’t traditionally used in that region, pruning methods, vine spacing, adherence to yield restrictions, lengthening hang time on the vine, handling of harvested grapes and treatment for disease on the vine and within the soil.  Sounds similar to methods used in traditional winemaking except modern winemakers might be less inclined to be concerned with growing grapes that are deemed traditional in a particular region.  And if they do produce wines from indigenous, traditional grapes, their methods might yield a style that is less analogous with their traditional counterparts.   In the winery, modern winemakers also use oak, acidify, chaptalize, fine, filter, select yeasts and use sulfur, but they also have at their disposal, if they so choose to put into practice, methods such as reverse osmosis, cryoextraction, and hot flashing using devices such as spinning cones, vacuum distillers, thermo-vinifiers and advanced filtration systems.  For the most part, these methods place more value on style than place.  These winemakers are not necessarily situated exclusively in the New World, as many Old World winemakers produce wines meant for the growing market of modern, Old World wines.

Natural Wines

Wines that are produced in using methods that the winemaker feels best captures not only tradition or style, but a sense of place assumed to be inherent in the vineyard, microclimate, soil and winery.  Most natural winemakers would agree that a wine that is produced using less chemicals in the vineyard, acidification, chaptalization, sulfur, egregious amounts of oak, fining, filtration, engineered yeast and other more modern techniques in the winery, the more natural the resulting wine.  That isn’t to say that the winemaker and facility cannot be modern – many are impeccably clean and the guiding hand of the winemaker can be incredibly heavy as more attention must be paid to the entire process – from vineyard to bottle – in order to ensure that the finished wine remains stable and captures what the winemaker feels is it’s sense of place.

There are different shades of grey in all three winemaking camps – at times they even intersect.  Though most wine writers, both professional and amateur, claim that sides must be chosen and a venomous debate must take place in order to prove one side correct over the other.  The claim that natural wines cannot be defined is growing tired and stale.  They are easily defined – we just need to steer clear of the endless cacophony of blabbering bullshit from all sides in the argument concerning their legitimacy and move on.

A Sense of Place – Bodega Chacra, Pinot Noir & Rio Negro, Argentina

Argentine Malbec from Mendoza.  Perhaps no other grape has recently been paired with a region so successfully than the Bordeaux export.  Countless examples fill shelves and wine lists – many of them quite good, exuding not only typicity and sense of place but also embracing an emerging winemaking tradition in Argentina.  However, Malbec from Mendoza did not interest me over the weekend – Pinot Noir from Rio Negro is what captured my attention.

Rio Negro is the southernmost winemaking area within Argentina.  Home to more apple crops than vineyards, the region is still off of the radar for most wine drinkers.  Though it’s quite some distance away from the equator, the region is not in fact overly cool for its latitude (after reading up on the Rio Negro, I must correct a statement I recently made on Twitter – the region is in fact not a cool climate region – it’s fairly warm with a long growing season).  With a climate more dry than rainy and more dessert than lush, the vineyards of the Rio Negro Valley are often irrigated with melt from Andean snow, though some winemakers in the area dry farm.  And compared to other Argentine wine regions, the Rio Negro is situated at a fairly low altitude with the best vineyards planted at around 750 feet above sea level.  Some of the vineyards up north can be located at up to 3,000 feet.

Though it’s a fairly arid region, the Rio Negro does experience large diurnal temperature changes as the temperature at night can drop 25-40 degrees from daytime highs.  And as the folks as Bodega Chacra note on their website, there are consistent and clearly defined seasons in the Rio Negro.  This reliability on the weather patterns to remain true enables winemakers to produce wines that realize their potential in capturing a sense of place.

Like many winemakers in Argentina and Chile, Piero Incisa della Rochetta, is a transplant from Europe.  You might recognize his family’s Tuscan label – Tenuta San Guido.  Now at home in Rio Negro, della Rochetta sources grapes from vineyards that are up to 80 years in age – with the oldest vines still planted on their own rootstock.  The wine I alluded to above was the 2009 Pinot Noir bottled under the Barda label.  As is the practice with winemakers across the globe, della Rochetta uses the Barda as a second label which is bottled with grapes not used in their higher end, more precise cuvees.  An incredibly aromatic and weighty wine, the ’09 Barda was not too richly textured or dark in color.  It had an abundant amount of acidity and had the weight of a Pinot that can be best described as Pommard-esque.  Too fruit forward to be confused with Burgundy it certainly had a flavor and textural profile that confused me a bit – not New Zealand, not California but with a couple of toes in a warmer vintage from the Cote d’Or.  For me, it’s a wonderful gateway wine to the rest of the lineup produced at Chacra and I hope the single vineyard cuvees soon find their way onto my dinner table.

Label Photo Courtesy of Bodega Chacra

A Sense of Time and Place – Early Purity and Elegance

Flowers in bloom are tough to come by in New Jersey this time of year.  Though it has been a mild winter, most of the shoots and growth we see thus far will not be producing flowers for another few weeks at the earliest.  However, as we inch closer with anticipation to warmer and longer days, there are a few harbingers of Spring hidden below our feet.  Both snow drops and crocuses are in full bloom – tucked away beneath the trees and last season’s leaves.  At no other time of year, at least in New Jersey, do these flowers appear.  And their vibrance, purity and simplicity preserve a sense of a time that comes only once a year – the time when we eagerly await the return of birds, bloom and perhaps a glass of something delicious with the windows open – if only for a few hours.

Snow Drops - Photo Credits: Teroldego & Tomatoes

Crocuses - Photo Credits: Teroldego & Tomatoes

And during this time of year, it’s not quite warm enough to abandon the reds in your cellar.  But as we look forward to rosé season, less brooding styles seem appropriate.  Last night we cracked open a couple of value bottles from two of my favorite California producers – Qupe and Tablas Creek.  The Central Coast Syrah from Qupe is a prime example that large appellation wines can still taste of a specific place as the wine was clean, elegant and pure.  The Patelin de Tablas from Tablas Creek is a delicious California equivalent to a Cotes du Rhone with concentrated and focused Paso Robles primary fruit.

Rhone Alive and Well in California