Query: is California Pinot Noir an oxymoron?

Gold medals from the Golden State?

In the old days, when I was first learning to appreciate fine wine – i.e., the early 1980’s -- it was a common assertion that, with a very few exceptions, most California Pinot Noir was boring; the majority of critics felt that they were obvious, heavy-handed and without merit.  Certainly, those days are long past, and there are now many examples that are worthy of our attention.  Wines from the Russian River Valley, Santa Barbara, the Sonoma Coast and the Santa Rita Hills have all attracted both critical and popular acclaim.

However, there is still an ocean of dull domestic Pinots.  Most everything I’ve tasted in the $15 range has a deadly lack of character -- a sameness that bores me to tears.  Regrettably, I’m forced to advise our customers that they have to go above the $20 point to get real quality.  And I’ll confess that I often steer them to Oregon, as my personal tastes definitely lie in that direction. 

And yet, if you’re willing to go near (or a bit past) the $20 mark, there are some excellent wines on the market that hail from the Golden State.  This Wine Face-Off features two Cali Pinots we’ve been featuring recently at the store where I work, and both are bottlings with a host of virtues…

Big fruit marks this accessible Pinot 

2012 Reatta Three County Pinot Noir (California, USA):  Medium-to-deep ruby.  Open nose of sweet red fruit at first; more candied elements appeared later; the sweetness remains, but deepens.  There’s a darker, slightly woodsy note that comes to the surface after a couple of hours of air.  More ripe, sweet fruit on the palate, especially on the attack.  There’s a long finish here with an initial dirty quality that quickly dissolves into a much more pleasant earthiness.  This is a pretty big Pinot, with some easy-to-understand aspects that make it an understandable favorite amongst our customers.  However, there are also some sophisticated features for those with patience and discernment.  Quite fine, especially for fans of riper styles.  *** ½.   (NOTE: After being preserved under inert gas for one day, more sweet fruit came to the fore, along with an interesting olive note.  Overall, however, the wine was simpler and just a trifle less interesting.)

Here's one that evolved in the glass...

2012 Zepaltas Russian River Valley Pinot Noir (Sonoma, California, USA):  Medium ruby.  The bouquet was initially rather muted; indeed, it was hard to distinguish the difference between this and the Reatta.  With air, however, a very distinct wine emerges.  The nose eventually becomes much darker, with menthol and forest-floor scents rising up.  As with the Reatta, there is also a sweet component.  In its first stages, the finish contained an aspect that, to me, resembled what you would have if you were to somehow distill and refine the candy canes some of us had at Christmastime in our childhood.  This sounds as if it might be cloying, but if you can imagine a truly elegant candy cane liqueur, laced with the scent of evergreens, this wine would be a close cousin.  This is really interesting stuff; not simple, and not easy, but highly worthwhile. ****  (NOTE: after being put under Private Preserve inert gas for one night, a much earthier dimension came into play; the sweeter elements receded in favor of rich soil.  Almost – dare I say it? – Burgundian.  Lovely with a simple chicken dish.  The Voyager recommends decanting this wine well in advance of consumption.)

I’m always happy when I do a Wine Face-Off that has a winner, but no losers.  These are both very fine.  In the end, the Zepaltas is for me the better bottle; it’s subtler than the Reatta, and deeper.  I’m sure that there might be some tasters who disagree with my findings, and put the Reatta on top.  In any case, there is unquestionable proof here that Pinot has found some hospitable environs in CA.  And, as has been proven over the years, Pinot in California’s sweet spots is a different animal than examples from anywhere else.  Viva la difference!

Is Oregon still a vinous orphan?

Considering all the plaudits that have been heaped upon it by the press, one would think that Oregon Pinot Noir would have long since established itself pretty firmly in the mind of the wine-drinking public.  And yet, in my current gig as a salesman at an establishment known for fine wine, I’ve been surprised how many times I’ve been greeted by mild consumer resistance when I’ve suggested bottles from Oregon.  It’s very subtle: a slightly raised eyebrow, accompanied by a few words – “Oregon…  really?”  Although there are a few cognoscenti who come in looking for superb offerings from this area, there is a significant segment of the public for whom fine American wine still means California, no matter what varietal they seek. 

Of course, Oregon is one of the places on the planet where Pinot Noir truly thrives.  More than one Burgundian vintner has set up shop in the Willamette Valley, which should surely be a clue for the rest of us that this is a spot where the grape is supremely well-adapted.  For me, it’s always been one of my go-to spots whenever I’m in the mood for a fine Pinot. 

Since I’m now back in the business of recommending selections for the wine-drinking public, I thought it might be worthwhile to re-visit two of my favorites from the past to see if they’re still worthy.  I’m happy to say that they’re both still offering the goods.

Light in color and body, but oh so elegant

 2010 Maysara Jamsheed Pinot Noir Montazi Vineyard (McMinnville AVA, Oregon):  Pale ruby.  Earthiness dominates here, accompanied by sour cherry notes at first, followed by sweeter cherry scents after it had opened up.  Subtle spice fragrances underneath.  A bit dull on the palate at first, but sweeter fruit emerges after about an hour of air.  Later still, some intriguing floral elements.  I had this wine shortly after its release, and liked it very much.  At present, it’s lost a bit of energy, but is still a lovely, truly elegant Pinot at an attractive price.  NOTE: after one day under Private Preserve gas, the wine yielded a treasure trove of floral aromas, with abundant sandalwood tones.  Ultimately tips the scale at ***1/2.

Structured and rich

2012 Cooper Mountain Pinot Noir (Willamette Valley, Oregon):  Medium plum – fairly dark for a Pinot, actually.  Still rather shy on the nose initally.  Some sweet cherry and rhubarb at first.  Opened out to darker scents – even some graphite.  Eventually, big floral notes – especially rose – come forth, along with sandalwood.  Not insubstantial tannic grip on the palate, with more sweet cherry flavors.  Lots of substance here, with the lovely purity that biodynamic wines so often display.  I am normally not the biggest fan of Pinot Noir, unless it’s of very high quality – this is a wine that makes me see why so many people are attracted to Pinot.  ****

So here are two lovely, albeit quite contrasting wines; both good, even if they're at opposite ends of the spectrum.  Oregon is still ground zero for American Pinot, and from what I've tasted, the best is yet to come as the area matures.  

Value Wines – Part I: Sauvignon Blanc

Tangy whites that are worthy of your attention

So the Voyager is back, after an absence of several weeks.  Here’s the ultimate irony: now that I’m back working in the wine trade full-time, I have much less time to drink and write about fine wine.  Like most wine salespersons, I spend as much time schlepping cases around as I do tasting the great stuff or advising customers on the best wine and food matches.  Not that I’m complaining, as it’s great to be working everyday with my colleagues -- who care about fine wine, can talk about it intelligently, and teach me a thing or two in the process – and with our customers, an overwhelming majority of whom are warm, lovely people.

Being back on the floor of a great wine store, I am reminded every day of the three most important letters in the world of wine: QPR – i.e., Quality-Price Ratio.  It’s the Holy Grail in the world of wine; what are the best wines you can drink for the lowest price?  I deal with some customers for whom price is no object, and not a few for whom a high price is a positive status symbol.  For most of the people who walk through our doors, however, getting the most wine for their dollar is crucial.  So, in the weeks to come we’ll take an occasional detour from the road less traveled in order to look at how to get the best bang for your buck when you enter your local liquor store.

What is a value wine?

 

Value, of course, means many different things, depending on who you ask.  For some customers, the sweet spot is in the range of $15 - $20.  It’s relatively easy to help these folks, because there are so many good wines at this price point.   It’s where I do a lot of my personal shopping, so many wines from previous posts on The Vinous Voyager will serve as guides.

For many, however, value is one or two levels down in terms of price.  Some are happy with wines in the $10 - $15 sphere; some ask for good wines below $10.  This is where things get slightly more challenging. 

It’s also where brands become more important.  Large wine companies, with access to many vineyards, and with wine-making facilities that can turn out large-scale production while still maintaining a decent level of quality, are the place where most people interested in the lower price ranges can find what they’re looking for. 

In my view, most of the good, inexpensive wines available in your local merchant cost from $8 - $12.  Below $8.00 and it’s very tough to find real quality; above $12.00, and one begins to encounter resistance from value-hunting customers.  So, for an ongoing series of posts that will highlight value wines, this is the realm in which we’ll focus our investigation. 

Why am I starting with Sauvignon Blanc?  

That’s easy – there are lots of good, inexpensive Sauvignons, and, despite the fact that the temperature in Colorado when I drank these wines was in the single digits – a time of year where we’re supposed to be drinking big red wines -- I happened to be in the mood for the zingy fruit that is the hallmark of this varietal.  Perhaps I was just refusing to let winter get the upper hand.

The hard news for patriotic Americans is that, when searching for the best values, you’re simply going to do better if you turn to bottles from wineries in the rest of the world.  In many other countries, land is less expensive, labor is cheaper, and when you buy wine from a country whose economy is in the dumper, currency exchange rates mean that you’re going to pay less for a bottle that in the USA would be much more expensive. 

Consequently, when looking for good Sauvignon Blanc that wouldn’t break the bank, I chose to go to two reliable sources: New Zealand and Chile. 

The Kiwis come to the fore; Chile isn't only about reds

New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc is one of the world’s great wine success stories; back in the late 1980’s and early 90’s, consumers in the UK and USA discovered the vivid, lively flavors of Sauvignons from this part of the world.  There’s something about New Zealand’s climate and soils that brings out a distinctive quality in this varietal.  People fell in love, and it’s hard to blame them. 

Meanwhile, at the same time, wine lovers all over the world were discovering the terrific red wines coming out of Chile.  Cabernet and Merlot were the forerunners (even though we later found out that most of what was labeled Merlot in Chile was really another grape altogether, a lovely varietal called Carmenere – subject of a future post).  At the same time, smart vintners in Chile were finding cooler growing conditions for enticing whites; for the most part, Sauvignon Blanc has been the leader, although there are certainly some worthy Chardonnays as well. 

The two Sauvignon Blancs I chose for this particular Wine Face-Off were both from the 2013 vintage, but at opposite ends of the value-wine spectrum: the first from Concha y Toro’s Casillero del Diablo range (a Chilean wine I bought for $7.99 at a local merchant), and, from New Zealand, the Marlborough offering from Villa Maria, a winery I’ve often admired in the past (this one comes in at $11.99, the top end of our value spectrum).  Both were practically identical in color – a pale-medium brassy gold. 

The test dish in this case: chicken curry.  Although there are other whites I prefer with spicy food (especially Riesling and Gruner Veltliner – see previous posts), lots of our customers like Sauvignons with Asian cuisines.  And, truth be told, they’re not off the mark; Sauvignon can be a lovely match with spicy dishes. 

Trying these two wines at the same time—each by itself at first, and then with the same dish – was an instructive exercise.  In any tasting where there were tons of different Sauvignons being compared, the Villa Maria would probably win.  

More flash and dash...

It’s bigger, in just about every way.  It has flashier aromas, including the famed gooseberry commonly associated with whites from NZ.  Some critics refer to this scent as “cat pee;” I cannot personally attest to the accuracy of this term, as I have never spent any time at all investigating the olfactory qualities of feline urine.  It’s also bigger on the palate, with grassy flavors that hit the palate with surprising strength.  A solid *** performer.  (A side note: some wine experts, when tasting Sauvignon Blancs at the same time as red wines, will pour the Sauvignons last – a move that turns conventional wine-tasting wisdom on its head, but that has a definite logic behind it, as the SBs have a flavor profile that can be distinctive and very powerful.)

But does the flashier performer always win?   Perhaps not...

The Casillero del Diablo is by no means a shy wine; it certainly has a degree of power all its own.  It is, however, a more subtle wine.  It has more gentle herbal aromas, and a more elegant palate.  With the Villa Maria, the different elements of the wine stand out from each other – in fact, they rather hit you over the head.  In the case of the Casillero del Diablo, everything melds together in a much more harmonious fashion; ***1/2 here.

Both wines were a decent match for the curry, although the Villa Maria seemed a bit like a fellow, who, upon meeting another man, is determined to prove that he has the stronger handshake.  The Casillero was a very different animal; at first, it might seem like the weaker partner in a relationship, but over time, it would exert its influence in an understated manner, so that it would eventually be recognized as more authoritative. 

Here’s a case where price doesn’t necessarily dictate quality.  I certainly did not feel cheated by paying more for the Villa Maria, but the next time I’m looking for a less-expensive Sauvignon Blanc, I’ll pull a bottle of the Casillero del Diablo off the shelf.