California Dreamin...

As the checkered flag dropped on yesterday's Auto Club 500, a 500-mile race in Fontana, California, I couldn't help but think to myslef that I wish I had made a weekend of it. I could've left Fonatana in the early evening following what was a pretty exciting race, caught some zzz's and been off early this morning to head down Route 15 to Temecula. Temecula is a great starting point for one's exploration of California's relatively unknown South Coast wineries, and one couldn't do better than beginning the morning at Temecula Hills Winery.

Admittedly, Temecula Hills winery is quite a bit larger than the micro-wineries we normally represent, but that doesn't mean there still isn't that homey feeling. The reason most wineries in the surrounding areas are on the larger side is part geography, part history. First of all, it is generally less mountanous here, and as a result there are less obtrusive geographical boundaries that naturally separate tracts of land. Secondly, this area is relatively new to commercial planting, and so a small number of (in my opinion very wise) investors were able to walk in and find the space to plant vineyards without restriction. This is not unlike what happened in the "lesser" AVA's located in the Central Coast in the 1960's.

Here's the difference. There are several ways to make the "rich, buttery" Chardonnays for which California wineries were long noted. The two most common are through full malo-lactic fermentation and the other is through the use of oak. If a winery employs both techniques without care, the result is an opulent, blowsy white that is more of a meal than a refreshment, and not entirely what I want.

This needs explanation. When Chardonnay grapes ferment - that is, turn their natural sugars into alcohol - that is called primary fermentation. The wine that results has a lot of green apple flavor and acidity, something known as malic acid. There another conversion that takes place, malo-lactic or secondary fermentation, that changes this more biting acidity into a creamier textured acidity, lactic acidity. (Think malic - milk, it is the same acid.) So there is a smoother mouthfeel. Winemakers allow malolactic fermentation to occur in varying degrees, some may choose no malolactic, full malolactic or somewhere in between. If the grapes are ultraripe, ultrasweet and high in alcohol (alcohol adds apparent sweetness to alcoholic beverages such as wine) then the wine becomes too "soft" in the mouth, very full, too creamy and overall not that friendly with most foods.

The same thing can happen with oak. Oak adds a certain vanilla, coconut flavor to the wine (in varying degrees depending on a lot of factors, a topic I hope to explore in the future). With the vanilla, coconut flavoring from oak and full malo-lactic fermentation and a lot of heat (and hence ripeness and alcohol), the wine becomes unbearably clumsy, weighty and sweet.

Luckily, one of our favorite stops in Temecula, where it is quite warm, is Temecula Hills Winery. Realizing that balance is always required in a wine (balance, as my regular readers already know, is what I most prize in a wine), Temecula Hills makes their Chardonnay sans oak, offering instead, pure, natural Chardonnay flavors and the essence of sunny Southern California. They opt for an unoaked Chardonnay, skipping the sweet oaky flavors that might throw the wine out of balance. The wine that results is fresh, flavorful juice that has a nice backbone.

Those of us on the east coast about now could probably use a bit of sunny, Southern California in a bottle. If you do, like I do, I recommend 2004 Temecula Hills Winery Unoaked Chardonnay without hesitation. Sunshine in a bottle - without the sunburn: Enjoy!

I think Miles was wrong...for some

The movie Sideways made Pinot Noir popular and Merlot passe. Everyone remembers Miles' now famous proclamation, "I am not drinking ******* Merlot! If anyone orders Merlot, I'm leaving!" As a Pinotphile myself, I understand where he's coming from. At the same time, the fact that sales of Pinot Noir are up 120% over the past two years gives me pause. As someone who has sold millions of dollars worth of Pinot Noir over the years, I can tell you this - I expect the sales to slow up in a hurry. If I were starting my own winery in California today, I wouldn't plant Pinot Noir. Let me tell you why.

First there are the basics - Pinot Noir is hard to grow. Pinot Noir is completeley different from Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot or Shiraz. These wines derive their dense, purple hues from the thick skins of those grapes. The thick skins protect the wines from many harmful natural factors such as intense sunlight. The skin of Pinot Noir is usually quite thin. (A corollary of the thickness or lack thereof of the skin is that Pinot Noir is usually lighter in color.) Because the skin is not as thick as that of other red grapes, Pinot Noir is more likely to be damaged by natural elements and also highly susceptible to rot! Rot in your wine is bad! It tastes horrible. When Cabernet for instance is underripe, there is a vegetal green bean character that develops. I'd take a vegetal Cab over a rotten Pinot noir any day! If you don't believe me, try a bad 1983 Burgundy: then you'll understand why really quickly.

Because it's difficult to grow, and requires enormous attention, something of which I am largely incapable (I am mre the visionary-type than detail-oriented), Pinot Noir and I would be a bad mix. But that's not the real reason: the real reason is that, despite the current trendiness of Pinot Noir, I think most casual wine drinkers enjoy Merlot more than Pinot Noir, unless the Pinot Noir is made poorly (more on this below).

Because of the skin differential, the wines are fundamentally different. Cabernet, Merlot and Shiraz age because of tannins. That is because tannins come (largely) from the skins of the grapes. Since Pinot Noir has substantially thinner skin, Pinot Noir doesn't age due to tannic structure. Pinot Noir actually ages due to acidity, or rather the balance of acidity and fruit. Whereas Merlot and its kin age because of the mouth-puckering tannin, Pinot Noir titilates the palate with mouthwatering acidity, much like most (non-sweet) white wines. Pinot Noir is a white wine in red wine clothing. And I don't think that's what most casual wine drinkers want in their wine. It's what I want, but what I want won't necessarily bring you enjoyment.

So we have a problem, as W. Blake Gray's recent SF Chronicle article discusses. Instead of making Pinot Noir the way they should make it, many California winemakers just leave the grapes hang on the vine longer to thicken the skins. It doesn't matter to them that in the first place, Pinot Noir is a cooler-climate grape and shouldn't be planted in 80% of the California vineyards in which it is found.

So we are left with one of three possibilities:

1) Until the Pinot Noir craze dies down (something I instinctively feel is already happening), people will continue wines that they don't like to be trendy.

2) Many winemakers will continue to try as hard as they can to make Pinot Noir taste like Merlot, Shiraz or Cabernet Sauvignon to cater to the latest trends, thus deceiving consumers into thinking they have developed a taste for Pinot Noir, when, in reality, they haven't yet learned the beauty of real Pinot Noir, that is, Pinot Noir that is graceful, light in color, svelte and equilibriously acidic.

3) The Pinot Noir craze will die of necessity, when most people realize that they prefer supple, fruit-forward Merlot to the vibrant, levity of Pinot Noir.

I can only hope as a true Pinotphile that three is the case. It will allow wineries such as Hunter Hill Winery and Adastra Vineyards to continue making Pinot Noir the way it should be made, from cooler climate sites (the Sonoma Coast and Los Carneros respectively). Although our visits to these wineries convince me that in spite of any trends in any direction, niether winery would budge from their current modus opperandi. That's why AVA Wine is proud to bring them to you. The goal here is to find representative exmaples of each of California's many AVA's (American Viticultural Areas), and in Hunetr Hill Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir and Adastra Los Carneros Pinot Noir, you have two fine examples of this. You can drink either one of these and say to yourself, "This is what Pinot Noir should taste like," and if you don't like it, by all means, drink Merlot and don't feel guilty. Drink what you like and forget the current trends.

More on a "sense of place"

As a follow up to my previous post, I’d like to direct you to a recent blog entry and discussion involving New York Times Wine Columnist Eric Asimov and winemaker Michael Twelftree. Asimov’s blog is here and you can find Twelftree’s side of story by following the link Asimov provided. While I generally agree with Asimov’s stance that in many ways expands upon my previous comments there are some additional points to consider.

Despite my relationship with AVA Wine, I am most noted for my expertise in Burgundy, precisely the lower-alcohol, food wines to which Asmiov occurs (at least in most cases). That being said, I unlike Mr. Asimov probably drink wine on its own at least half the time. And when I do drink it alone, I generally do prefer it to be lower in alcohol – in addition to Burgundy (both white and red), German Rieslings fit the bill nicely in this respect as well. If I opt for most California wines, Bordeaux or other fuller-bodied reds, I prefer to have them with red meat, a grilled steak usually does the trick. So in some ways, I guess you can say that I am in opposition to either Asimov or Twelftree in that, I only enjoy fuller, high-octane wines when they’re served with food; after all, if I going to binge, why not do it right and besides, if the wine has a good bit of alcohol, I’d prefer to have a big meal with it to try to avoid the negative affects of the alcohol. One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had was a a large tasting party where everyone was required to bring a bottle a Zinfandel – not White Zinfandel – but the alcoholic, intense, jammy red wine. After downing even small samples of 15 – 20 reds in excess of 15% alcohol, not one guest had their wits about them.

My I also posit the following? I know Asimov fairly well and appreciate his writing and knowledge as well. Twelftree I’ve met only briefly, but Mr. Asimov leaves out the fact that not only is Twelftree involved with Two Hands Winery in Australia but also runs a small, new negociant in Burgundy known as Mischief and Mayhem. The sources for Twelftree’s grapes in Burgundy are among some of the finest traditional producers in that region. So clearly Twelftree hasn’t lost sight of the fact that there’s room for more than one type of wine in the world.

Noting this takes me back to last weeks entry – where I basically told you that I like wines that taste the way they are supposed to taste. Wines from Diamond Mountain should taste like Diamond Mountain. Wines from the Napa Valley floor should taste just so. Even California Chardonnay comes in many forms - such as the steely, Silver Mountain 2001 Chardonnay from a cooler site atop high in the Santa Cruz Mountains. It may not be what most people think of when they think of buttery, full, sunny California Chardonnay, but that’s just the point: it shouldn’t be. When there’s snow on the winery ground’s at Silver Mountain, people are dining outside in downtown Soquel or a few miles up the waterfront on the boardwalk in Santa Cruz. Every wine comes from somewhere, and if you understand from where it comes, you’re enjoyment of the wine will be enhanced greatly. Now that I understand what Twelftree is trying to accomplish with his Australian wines, I’m sure my next bottle will be more enjoyable.