Wine Talk wine column by Robert Whitley

A few years back I walked up Hermitage Hill on a bitter cold January day and snapped a photo of the famous chapel at the top, La Chapelle. From the bottom of the hill, in the center of Tain-Hermitage in the heart of the Northern Rhone, the view of the Hill is impressive.

Tain-Hermitage is Syrah country, and the Syrah from the Hill is the most sought after and expensive in the world. Hermitage from a good vintage can age for decades, which is the primary reason collectors and connoisseurs prize this special wine.

New World Syrah, or Shiraz if you fancy Australian Syrah, is a different animal. Most of it is planted in warmer climates and picked riper. Some of these more voluptuous Syrahs can age equally well, but the aromas and flavors and most of all the structure bear little resemblance to Hermitage.

One exception I've recently discovered is the Columbia Winery Red Willow Vineyard Syrah, produced from hillside grapes grown in the shadows of Washington's Cascade Mountains at an elevation of 1300 feet.

Columbia Winery winemaker David Lake, a Master of Wine, urged vineyard owner Mike Sauer to plant Syrah in the mid-1980s. The vineyard already had an established reputation for Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, but Sauer followed Lake's advice and planted Syrah anyway.

The 1988 vintage from Red Willow was the first commercial vintage of Syrah released in Washington, but now Syrah seems to be overtaking Cab and Merlot and looms as Washington's most promising red grape variety. It's interesting that the Red Willow Vineyard is the state's most northerly planting of Syrah.

Not coincidentally, the finest Syrah in France's Rhone Valley comes from the cooler areas at the northern end of the valley, such as Hermitage, Cornas and Cote-Rotie.

BEAUNE, France – I'm thumbing through the wine list at Le Conty, a charming bistrot with a killer cellar in the center of Beaune, the epicenter of France's Burgundy region. There are many stunning bottles to choose from, but I keep returning to the section with the demis -- or half bottles.

A demi of Bonneau du Martray's 1993 Corton-Charlemagne catches my eye. This is a 13-year-old grand cru white Burgundy, a rare wine to begin with, but even more of a rarity considering it's by the half bottle in a modest restaurant where I'm sitting on a folding chair and using paper napkins.

So I'm thinking maybe this is just dumb luck. Then I flip the page to check on the red wines in demi and spy an important wine from the Rhone Valley, the 1996 Jabloulet Hermitage 'La Chapelle.' I pinch myself once or twice just to make sure I'm not dreaming.

OK, I can do this. The Corton-Charlemagne is listed at 55 euro (about $70) and the 'La Chapelle' at 48 euro (about $60). The prices are very good given the quality and age of the wines. I can't resist; I'm in for both.

The '93 Corton-Charlemagne was impressive. The color was youthful, and on the palate the wine packed the signature Corton-Charlemagne power, firm acidity and extraordinary length. This was an absolutely remarkable white wine.

'The 1993 vintage was a lean vintage,' Frederic Drouhin, the president of Burgundy's respected Joseph Drouhin negociant firm, told me. 'The wines were not especially well received when they were young. They needed time. Our '93 Clos des Mouches (blanc) is the same.'

And come around they have. The '96 Jaboulet Hermitage 'La Chapelle' was an equally exciting revelation, although my expectations for the wine had been high to begin with. La Chapelle is one of the choicest spots on Hermitage hill and the wines are renowned for their power, elegance and longevity.

What I didn't expect was the explosion of fruit. The 'La Chapelle' delivered an intense bouquet of blueberry jam and violets. The infamous Hermitage tannins were beautifully integrated into the wine and the palate was very long, smooth and complex. This was a superb bottle of wine, and it had to be to play in the same league with the exceptional Chardonnay from Corton-Charlemagne.

You may or may not be able to replicate this tasting, but the larger point is to trust the great terroirs of the world to produce wines that will age beautifully and hold up magnificently in half bottles (wines typically age more quickly in half bottles and more slowly in large-format bottles, such as magnums, double-magnums and larger). Those with the patience to cellar such wines will be rewarded.

Tony Terlato has probably seen it all over his 50 years in the wine business, so when he determines that what the world really needs is another Pinot Grigio, he's probably right.

Terlato grew up selling wine in Chicago, first at the retail level, then as a distributor and finally, and most famously, as an importer. His company, Paterno Imports, built the renowned Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio brand here in the United States.

Tony knows Pinot Grigio. But a funny thing happened on the way to the bank. Terlato came across a restaurant with 20 Pinot Grigios on its list, but no Santa Margherita. He discovered this trendy New York restaurant had a policy of stocking only domestic wines.

So Terlato, who by then had become a vintner himself (Chimney Rock, Rutherford Hill, Sanford, etc.), called his chief winemaker in Napa, Doug Fletcher, and told him he wanted him to make a Pinot Grigio.

"Not any Pinot Grigio," said Terlato. "If I'm going to make it and put my name on it, I want it to be the best Pinot Grigio."

With those marching orders, Fletcher began the quest to find a source for high quality Pinot Grigio. He eventually found a vineyard.

"Doug called me and said 'Tony, I have good news and I have bad news,'" said Terlato. "I said 'Give me the good news first.' Doug said, 'I found your Pinot Grigio.' I said 'What's the bad news?'

"He said, 'It's in the Russian River Valley. We should really be planting Pinot Noir there that we can sell for $48 a bottle instead of Pinot Grigio that we can sell for $22 a bottle. Do you still want to make Pinot Grigio?' "

The answer, as so often is the case in the wine industry, is in the bottle. The 2005 Terlato Pinot Grigio (Russian River Valley) is Tony's third vintage, and each year of production he has quickly sold out all 1800 cases made.

I don't know if this is the finest Pinot Grigio produced here in the United States, but it is certainly up there. Beautifully balanced, textured and remarkably long yet fresh and delicate on the palate, the Terlato reminds me of my two favorite Italian Pinot Grigios, from Alois Lageder in Alto Adige and Livio Felluga in Friuli. It even has a bit of the mineral aspect you will find in those two wines.

I had an eerie feeling as I toured the cellars last month at New Zealand's Kumeu River Winery, just outside Auckland. I have been here before, I thought. Not this exact place in terms of brick and mortar, but an identical place spiritually.

My thoughts drifted to a similar experience less than a year earlier, when I also tasted wines from barrel at Leeuwin Estate in Margaret River, Western Australia. I remember having the same eerie feeling at Leeuwin.

I'd been there before -- in the cellars of Comtes Lafon in the village of Meursault, in Burgundy's Cote de Beaune, where the world's finest Chardonnays are made. And that is the common thread between these three extraordinary winery visits thousands of miles apart -- mind-boggling, world-class Chardonnay.

You don't come across "great" Chardonnay every day. Too much of the wine made from this noble white grape is monotonous and boring, if not downright mediocre or bad.

Outside of Burgundy you could probably count the world's truly outstanding Chardonnays on your fingers and toes. OK, that might be a slight exaggeration, but in relation to the volume of Chardonnay produced, the percentage of Chardonnays that approach greatness is small.

There is little question in my mind that Kumeu River is one of them. The winery was established in 1944 as a family business and remains in the Brajkovich family to this day. Michael Brajkovich is the winemaker and was the first Kiwi to become a Master of Wine.

I don't know enough about Michael to know whether or not he is a winemaking genius on the order of a Dominique Lafon. I do know he is good enough and smart enough not to get in the way of great terroir -- or vineyard sites that deliver something magical that makes the Kumeu River Chardonnays stand head and shoulders above the others in New Zealand, even others produced where the climate and soil are considered more conducive to serious wine.

Kumeu River Chardonnay (imported by Wilson Daniels of St. Helena, CA.) has what every top-notch Chardonnay requires and what is missing from 99 percent of what's out there: superb structure. These Chardonnays have fresh, firm acidity and intense minerality along with richness, weight and depth.

This is a rare combination. When you find it you can understand why Chardonnay is held in such high esteem and why the top cru of Burgundy fetch such handsome prices.

The thoroughbred of the Kumeu River stable is the Mate's Vineyard, but the "Village" Chardonnay is none too shabby and reasonably priced at about $20.

Try it. You might even be pursuaded to burn your ABC (Anything But Chardonnay) card!

Not quite a year ago I had an illuminating email exchange with Josh Jensen, the owner of Calera Wine Company. Jensen also makes the wines at Calera's somewhat remote location in the mountains of California's Central Coast, about an hour south of San Francisco. Calera is famous for its Mt. Harlan Pinot Noirs, and rightly so.

Long before other California vintners had figured out this tricky grape variety, Calera was getting it right. Jensen (pictured here at his Mt. Harlan estate) saw to that. He chose the location for its limestone soils, rare in California but abundant in Burgundy, and he possessed a clear vision of how truly great Pinot Noir should taste.

I was therefore a bit surprised at my disappointment while tasting a few young Calera Pinots earlier this year. Jensen, knowing I had admired Calera's Pinots over many years, wrote to suggest that my impression of those lean, tightly structured wines might change if I would only have the patience to wait for them to come around.

He indicated five years might be the optimum, depending upon the vintage, but we all know few consumers actually buy these wines with the intention of aging them. Hence Jensen often holds back release of his Pinots to give the wines more time to evolve.

Last night Josh spoke to me again, but this time it was through his wines -- the lovely 2002 Calera Reed Vineyard Pinot Noir ($48) and the tightly wound 2002 Calera Selleck Vineyard Pinot Noir ($58).

The Reed is already beginning to blossom, fleshing out and developing more depth of aroma and length on the palate as it sheds the leaness of youth. The Selleck remains fairly tight, but already you sense this wine is finding another gear.

What I admired most about both wines was their connection to the place where the grapes were grown. Both wines were earthy on the nose, though the Reed is more precocious and expressive at this time, and there was a strong thread of minerality in each, though strongest in the Selleck.

The fruit aromas were more in the realm of red fruits -- strawberries, raspberries and cherries -- than the darker, black fruits that can sometimes be confused with aromas found in other red wines, such as Syrah.

It says a great deal about the courage of Jensen's convictions that he continues to seek these characteristics in his Pinots, bucking the trend toward riper, more voluptuous, even sweeter Pinot Noirs that are favored by many of his neighboring vintners

The big difference with Calera Pinot is that it requires something of the consumer. That would be patience.

While visiting New Zealand recently to serve as a judge at the International Chardonnay Challenge in Gisborne, I had a few free days on my hands to explore.

One of my stops, quite spontaneously, was at the Villa Maria Winery, which is well known in the United States for its pungent Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. But it wasn't the Sauvignon that set my mind afire. Nope, it was the absolutely mind-blowing single-vineyard Pinot Noir from the Awatere Valley sub-region of Marlborough.

This bottling, which sadly is not exported to the U.S. (less than 200 cases are produced), is called Taylor's Pass. No Pinot I've tasted from New Zealand has ever come so close to perfection. I tried two vintages and the 2004 was yummy beyond belief.

As it happened, I had driven over the range of mountains that separates the Awatere Valley from the rest of Marlborough the day before. The Awatere is a windswept region that slopes from the foothills of the ranges down to the sea.

Vineyard plantings there are less than 10 years old. The area was only cultivated after the wine business outgrew the rest of Marlborough.

I may not be able to lay my hands on a bottle of this fabulous nectar now that I'm back in the States, but you can bet I'll be on the lookout for other Marlborough Pinots in the future, particularly if I can trace the vineyard source to the Awatere, a new region with seemingly unlimited potential.

Conventional wisdom holds that the best Kiwi Pinot Noir is made in the Central Otago or Martinborough regions, but it's now obvious to me there is another contender in the game.

NUITS-SAINT-GEORGES, France – The feet skipping quickly down the stairs of the modest cellar were those of a man in a hurry. The harvest is about to begin in the Cote d’Or and Nicolas Potel is apologetic that he only has a few minutes to chat.

He is a young man, still on the good side of 40, yet something of a boy wonder in the rapidly changing landscape of Burgundy, with its respect for tradition and yet a yearning to join the modern world of wine.

Potel is young, but he is hardly a novice, having been raised in a wine family where he worked alongside his legendary father, Gerard, in the commune of Volnay in the Cote de Beaune.

Nicolas learned about wine from Gerard and also tended the highly regarded Pousse d’Or estate, where he took an interest in organic farming and pushed the famous vineyard in that direction.

Nicolas and Gerard had big plans to start a negociant firm when Gerard died suddenly in 1997, and the Pousse d’Or was sold from beneath Nicolas’ feet shortly thereafter. Thus Maison Nicolas Potel was born, absent Gerard, and young Nicolas was on his own.

He first won acclaim for his village Volnay from the 1997 vintage, composing a superb cuvee from myriad sources. The Maison was launched, and though Nicolas settled on a modest cellar and office in Nuits-Saint-Georges in the Cote de Nuits, his heart has remained in Volnay.

“The Volnay is my flagship wine,” he says unabashedly, though his cellar is now populated with superb grand cru and premier cru wines from throughout the Cote d’Or. “Village wines can be at a very high level. Between 25 and 40 dollars you can bring a lot of people to love Burgundy, people who maybe can’t afford the more expensive crus.”

Potel recognizes the difficulty Burgundy has in the rest of the world, where New World wine producers from Chile, Argentina, Australia, New Zealand and the United States have claimed a huge segment of the market by delivering excellent quality at a fair price.

Though the market for grand cru and top premier cru Burgundy has remained strong despite the competition, demand for less well-known Burgundies has slackened, in no small part because the perception persists – justifiably in many cases – that the quality hasn’t justified the price.

Potel’s answer to all that has been to raise the bar on quality through improved viticulture and clever management of the cellar.

His own small holdings – roughly 30 acres – are farmed organically, with an eye toward bio-dynamic viticulture over time. He also pushes his growers in that direction and is beginning to see some success.

“As a negociant, the beauty to me of having my own vineyards is that I can demonstrate with my own grapes the benefits of this kind of farming, actually show my growers the positive results,” said Potel.

His trick in the cellar is quite simple. He blends 15 to 20 percent of his village wine into the Bourgogne, which is the lowest of the classifications of Burgundy. He does virtually the same thing with his village wines, blending 15 to 20 percent premier cru wine with the village wine to create a “super” village cuvee.

“There are many premier cru that are not well known but they are very fine wines; they are difficult to sell for a higher price,” said Potel. “If you add 20 percent of that to your cuvee, you will have a great cuvee!”

“We are trying to make more balanced, pure wines,” he says. “In the 90s we were making big, tannic wines.

“We still make wines with power, but also with elegance. A good wine is a good wine in my home and in my cellar at the same time.”

Potel didn’t come to his philosophy in a vacuum. He traveled the world extensively, working with wineries in Western Australia such as Leeuwin Estate and Moss Wood and in California with the prestigious Russian River Valley producer Dehlinger.

And he continues to learn.
“Each vintage is different and we have to adapt, to do things we didn’t think we would have to do or things we’ve never done before,” he said. “We are constantly evolving.”

This is the new Burgundy, and Potel is one of its young guns. Yet another harvest is upon him. Storm clouds are forming and rain is expected on the weekend. He must prepare for anything. And so he is off, skipping back up the cellar stairs, seemingly two at a time as he takes on another vintage armed with boundless enthusiasm and an open mind.

Some wine enthusiasts have food and wine pairing down to a science. I don’t. When it comes to which wines with what dish, I wing it, like 99 percent of the population.

Common sense is my compass. I know enough to avoid dry wines with sweet sauces, or even dessert, but I have a fairly open mind about everything else.

This is a must, for once a year I pull together a beautiful dinner to celebrate the Platinum Award-winning wines of the Critics Challenge International Wine Competition.

Chef Fabrice Hardell of San Diego’s Le Fontainebleau restaurant creates the menu at least six months in advance, long before the winning wines are known, so promotional materials can be printed and the dinner advertised.

It was my task to fill in the wines to be served from the 60 or more wines that had been judged Platinum. From that group I had to whittle the wine list down to about 10 wines and assign a wine or wines to each course. Therein lay the challenge. For a normal wine dinner, the courses would be designed to fit specific wines. At the Critics Challenge dinner it was exactly the opposite.

I started first with the easiest decision, serving the Best of Show Rose from this year’s Critics Challenge, Bonny Doon’s 2005 Big House Pink ($10), as the aperitif. Guests arriving on a warm summer night were greeted with a refreshing glass of dry rose. This was a no-brainer. To my surprise, the thirsty mob quickly drained the supply of rose and we moved into the dining room for the first course.

This was an heirloom tomato salad, and it had occurred to me that the rose might have been nice in this spot as well. Instead, I served the 2005 Kenwood Sauvignon Blanc ($13). This is a wine that seems to have undergone a recent change in style. Previous vintages have had a strong expression of grapefruit. The grapefruit was tamed a bit in this vintage, which was grassier than usual and broader on the palate.

I paired it with the heirloom tomato salad because of its bright acidity and herbal/grassy overtones. Voila! As luck would have it, everyone seemed to enjoy the combination.

My next course was a spicy Thai snapper dish that cried out for a white with some substance and power, a perfect spot for the Best of Show White, Bonterra’s organically grown 2004 Roussanne ($18). This was a wine with an interesting nose of minerals and lanolin, good weight and power on the palate and exceptional depth. It was class of the white wines and it was easy to see why the judges had voted it best white wine.

The next course was a beautiful medium rare Colorado lamb loin, and for that I had an abundance of riches – six outstanding reds (guests were asked to choose any three of the six) that were very difficult to separate.

It used to be said that Merlot was the most appropriate red for lamb, but my nose tells me any well-made red with good depth will handle the strong aroma of lamb.

The most outstanding red pairing in my mind was the lamb with the 2003 Flora Springs ‘Trilogy’ ($60). That didn’t surprise me, for I had voted for the Trilogy during the competition (I am Director and one of two Chief Judges), when it was made Best of Show Red wine.

A close second for me was the 2000 El Coto ‘Coto de Imaz’ Rioja Reserva ($48). The smoky, spicy nose and earthy aromas went exceedingly well with the slightly gamey flavor of the lamb. All of the reds were excellent with this dish, however, including the Orfila 2001 Pinot Noir ($48), a big, robust Pinot with all the muscle necessary to stand up to the lamb.

The other three reds: St. Supery 2001 Merlot ($24), Flora Springs 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon ($30) and Sequoia Grove 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon ($32).

Suffice it to say I made it through the dinner with nary a complaint (so far!) and look forward to my next food and wine pairing adventure.

In my WINE FINDS section, you will notice that each wine has been assigned a numerical rating. There has been much discussion lately – inspired primarily by an article in The New York Times – about the practice of equating wine quality to a number.

This is often called the “Parker” system, after renowned wine critic Robert Parker, though numerical ratings existed before Parker popularized numerical ratings with his rave reviews of the infamous Bordeaux vintage of 1982.

Parker’s publication, The Wine Advocate, is widely used by those in the wine trade and by wineries themselves to promote wine sales. Other major wine publications, such as The Wine Spectator and Wine Enthusiast, use numerical ratings as well.

The concept is straightforward and fairly simple. The most popular numerical system is the 100-point scale, which every school child can understand. A score of 90-100 points equates to an “A” grade. A score of 80-89 points equals a “B” grade, and so on. Wine consumers can easily discern a critic’s appreciation of any wine by zooming in on the score.

The prose that accompanies the score – the review itself – is often ignored, and that’s the rub. Critics of the system chafe at the idea that consumers sometimes chase the scores rather than choosing a wine based on its description. And they positively bristle at the idea that a finite number can define a wine.

In that sense, critics of numerical ratings are correct. Wines evolve with time – sometimes to great advantage, sometimes not – making it unlikely there is one number that would fit a wine throughout its life.

That point loses much of its steam, however, upon closer scrutiny. The mistake everyone makes about the number is the assumption that it’s about the wine. It’s not. The number is merely a measure of the taster’s reaction to the wine, working much like an applause meter.
Wines change. When diligent critics re-taste a wine, the score – at least in their records, if not in a printed publication – is often revised. There can be any number of reasons for this.

A wine may not have shown its best when first tasted, either because it was recently shipped or because it had entered what vintners sometimes call a “dumb” phase in which the fruit aromas and other nuances seem to be muted. A wine also might simply blossom in an unexpected way.

Even the most experienced tasters can be fooled, and most will admit as much. At best the numerical rating is an approximation of where a wine is at the moment it was tasted and where the critic thinks it will go with some time.

There are many absolutely delicious wines that I might score in the 90-94 range, but refuse to go higher because I believe that particular wine has peaked and will not achieve additional character and complexity with age. When I go 95 points or higher, it’s because I believe a wine deserves at least an “A” grade and has the potential to reach more profound heights.

When I score a wine in the 80-89 range, I’m saying it’s a good wine with appealing characteristics, but probably not destined for greatness. There is nothing wrong with wines rated in the 80-89 range so long as the price is not outrageous.

A “good” wine sometimes is better in the moment than a “great” wine, for sometimes wine is made only to deliver simple pleasure and joy. It’s not necessary that it always be a conversation piece.

Just remember this one thing and you will be able to use the numbers to your advantage: At ten bucks or less, an 85 is a very good number for any bottle of wine.

Every weekend thousands of gringos pour across the Mexico-U.S. border into Baja California. Most are going for the sun, the sand and the big surf, or the local lobster with either a cold cerveza or a hand-made margarita. An increasing number, however, are making the trip for the wine.

Mexico’s most important wine region is located 60 miles south of San Diego near the fishing village of Ensenada.
The Guadalupe Valley lies northeast of Ensenada, a mere 10 miles from the Pacific Ocean, and benefits from the maritime influence, which moderates the temperature and makes it possible to grow the classic French grape varieties used for the production of fine table wines.

Prior to the opening of the superb Monte Xanic in 1987, winemaking in the Guadalupe Valley was defined by the mass-produced wines of Pedro Domecq and L.A. Cetto. Monte Xanic’s five partners, including U.C. Davis-trained winemaker Hans Backhoff, believed the Valle de Guadalupe had greater potential.

The success of Monte Xanic spawned other ambitious boutique wineries with great expectations for the region. Hugo d’Acosta, longtime winemaker at the Santo Tomas winery in Ensenada, one of the oldest wineries in Mexico, found the inspiration to open Casa de Piedra; and the outstanding Chateau Camou, which is dedicated to the production of Bordeaux-style red and white wines, for a time employed the famed French enologist Michel Rolland as a consultant.

On a recent excursion into Baja (partly for the sun and sand, partly for the lobster and cerveza, and partly for the wine) I found myself navigating the breathtaking two-lane road from Ensenada to Tecate, which is the primary route through the Guadalupe Valley. Breathtaking because the absence of highway guard rails sometimes quite literally takes your breath away.

My first stop was the tiny bodega called Vina de Liceaga, where the production and selection are miniscule. An off-dry Chenin Blanc and a reserve Merlot were promising, though the over-ripe aromas of the Merlot were not particularly to my taste.
L.A. Cetto, well run and with high standards despite its size, was a different experience. Its tasting room and picnic grounds were teeming with tourists, but despite the crowd the staff remained in good humor and extremely helpful.

Much to my surprise Cetto poured an excellent Viognier, a white wine made famous in France’s Rhone Valley. A Cabernet Sauvignon, a red Bordeaux-style blend and a Rose of Cabernet were all first-rate, too. I purchased a bottle of the L.A. Cetto Nebbiolo to take home. Though impossible to find in the U.S., I did run across this wine once in a wine bar in Paris. It’s probably the finest Nebbiolo I’ve ever tasted outside of Italy.

Domecq was directly across the highway from L.A. Cetto, but it might as well have been a world away. The tasting room was dreary, which made it a good match for the wines. I wondered as I left if Domecq made better wines than it was pouring in the tasting room, but nothing I tasted during my visit offered the least bit of encouragement.

The highlight of my tour through the valley was a stop at Monte Xanic. As luck would have it, Backhoff was cooling off in the tasting room on this scorching hot day.

Backhoff is an old acquaintance. He and I have both judged at the Los Angeles International Wine Competition, and he came to San Diego a couple of years ago to judge at the San Diego International Wine Competition, where I am Director and Chief Judge.
He greeted me with a bit of a gleam in his eye, for he had a couple of special wines to share. Monte Xanic is well known for its Cabernet, its Bordeaux-style red and white blends and its Chardonnay.

One was a red blend of Aglianico and Nebbiolo, about 90 percent of it Aglianico. This is the most important red grape of southern Italy and produces a world class wine under the right circumstances.

“The Aglianico is doing beautifully,” said Backhoff. “The cuttings came from a man locally.”

The Nebbiolo Aglianico was exqisitely balanced and beautifully structured, a complex, world class red that’s easily among the best wines I’ve ever tasted from Baja. The other wine that had Backhoff humming was a Petit Verdot, a gorgeous fruit bomb of a wine that reminded me of fresh blueberries.

“We usually blend this for color, but this was so good we had to bottle some on its own,” said Hans.

I remember thinking as I left that I couldn’t believe these two incredible wines were made in Mexico. Then I remembered my first visit to Monte Xanic many years ago. I went home with a bottle of Chardonnay and poured it during a blind tasting for a number of wine enthusiasts who met regularly at a local restaurant.

The Monte Xanic bested a stellar selection of French white Burgundies and California Chardonnays. As the winner was unbagged, one of the tasters, a confirmed Francophile, buried his face in his hands and cried: “I don’t believe I voted for a wine from Mexico over the Puligny-Montrachet!”

Wine enthusiasts of a certain age will remember the earliest offerings from Australia to reach these shores. The Aussie wines were plump, easy drinking and cheap. That formula proved popular and was followed by another wave of Aussie wines that were bigger, bolder and more expensive.

It seems the earlier, easier wines served to whet the American palate for all Australian wine. Or what we think of as Australian wine.

It turns out there is another Aussie wine wave on the horizon, and it’s like nothing seen before from Down Under. If you think all Australian wine is ripe and powerful, high in alcohol and smacks you right in the face at first sip, think again. The wines of Western Australia – more than 2,000 miles from the epicenter of mainstream Australian wine – might as well be from another planet, or Europe at the very least.

The heart of Western Australia’s winegrowing area is Margaret River, three hours south of Perth at a point where the Indian and Southern oceans collide. The roiled seas have long been a lure for nomadic surfers in search of the next big wave. The wine wave is barely 40 years old, fully 100 years behind the rest of the Australian wine industry.

The proximity of the two oceans provides a unique double-maritime climate that cools the vineyards with nighttime temps that are dramatically lower than the daytime highs. The impact on the grapes, and ultimately the wines, is profound. Cabernet Sauvignon thrives in this climate, producing wines that are fresh and elegant, yet intense and complex. Other Bordeaux grape varieties, especially the whites, i.e., Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon, perform equally well (Western Australia is famous for its Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon blends).

Even Chardonnay has its moments, though the Burgundian grape has had a checkered past.
Though Margaret River is the most well-known viticultural outpost, there is rapid expansion further south into an even cooler climate in a region known as Great Southern. And between Margaret River and the Swan Valley outside Perth there are a number of outstanding producers.

The brightest stars of Western Australia – Leeuwin Estate and Cullen, both from Margaret River – are well established and have cultivated an international following. Leeuwin’s Chardonnay is perhaps the finest in the world outside of the grand cru vineyards of Burgundy. The quality hardly ends with Leeuwin and Cullen. There are dozens of superb Western Australia wineries that also have designs on the American palate.

Just to mention a few:

Alkoomi is located in the Frankland River sub-region of the Great Southern and remains true to its rustic style, which it embraced more than 30 years ago. These earthy reds have great personality, and the Riesling is one of the three best in the district.

Capel Vale, situated between Margaret River and Perth, is one of the region’s finest producers of Shiraz. Owner Peter Pratten is driven by a desire to make world-class wines and he has largely succeeded. The Cabernet Sauvignon is excellent, too.

Evans & Tate is renowned for Chardonnay, though its best is not yet in the same league as Leeuwin or Cullen. The Cabs and Shiraz are excellent and all of the Evans & Tate wines are well priced.
Ferngrove, which opened in the past few years, is a contrast in style with neighboring Alkoomi, turning out polished “international” reds and a zesty Riesling.

Howard Park is a Margaret River winery established 20 years ago focused on Riesling. Its Riesling is exceptional, indeed, but the vineyard-designated Cabernet Sauvignons are among the finest in the region and great values in the $20 range. A second label, Mad Fish, is exceptional in the $10-$12 neighborhood.

Plantagenet was the Great Southern’s first winery, so it’s no wonder its Riesling is probably the best. The Plantagenet wines are exceptional across the board and are starting to show up with some consistency here in the U.S.

Salitage is Western Australia’s best bet for top-notch Pinot Noir. Owned by John Horgan, brother of Leeuwin Estate’s Dennis Horgan, Salitage is located in a sub-region of the Great Southern called Pemberton, after the nearby town. The Pinot Noir is very good in the best years, a bit wimpy in the off years.

Vasse Felix, planted in 1967, is Margaret River’s original winery. Quality has always been high, particularly with the Bordeaux varietals of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot

Voyager Estate is an impressive winery in the Margaret River district. All of its wines are estate grown and the Cabernet Sauvignon is just about as good as it gets in Western Australia. The Shiraz, which is spotty in this part of the world, is exceptional.

A reader by the name of Frank emailed an interesting question on the matter of aromas that can – or can’t, as the case may be – be found in a glass of wine.

“Where do you and all the wine experts find the aromas of pear, honey, roasted nuts, peach, green apple, grapefruit, herbal, smoky something, berries of all kinds, etc., etc., inside a bottle of wine that was made from pure and simple grapes. Maybe I am stupid, but how can those aromas get inside the grapes?

“I do not taste any of those aromas described by you. I do taste different aromas from different grapes and regions. I do taste more alcohol, less alcohol, dryer, sweeter, but (it) all tastes like wine, (it) all tastes like grapes!”

I wrote back explaining that the taste sensations – flavors and aromas – that are found in wine are very real and come from a number of sources. Grapes, unlike most other fruits, harbor a vast array of aromas in the pulp and the skins. The aroma profile depends upon the grape variety, but there are other factors that influence aroma.

Climate and soil are the most significant of the outside factors. The same grape grown in different soils under similar conditions and vinified in the same manner will often deliver a dramatically different palate of flavors and aromas.

One of the best examples of this can be found at Diamond Creek Vineyards, near Calistoga at the northern end of the Napa Valley. Diamond Creek is a small estate on Diamond Mountain, yet it possesses at least three distinct soil types that influence the taste of the wines. Diamond Creek only makes Cabernet Sauvignon.

The Diamond Creek vineyards are divided by soil types and descriptively named: Volcanic Hill, Gravelly Meadow and Red Rock Terrace. The vineyards are so close together a visitor can stand at the center of the property and throw pebbles and strike each one. The miracle is that no two Diamond Creek Vineyard Cabs taste alike.

Another crucial factor in aroma development comes from the winegrower. Viticulture is of the utmost importance. How the vineyards are managed over the course of the growing season will deliver either greener or riper flavors, depending on the aim of the farmer. Then comes the all-important decision of when to pick the grapes.

A Sauvignon Blanc picked at a point early in the ripening stage will have more herbal and mineral aspects. A Sauvignon Blanc picked fully ripe will move away from green aromas and minerality into aromas of melon, peach and tropical fruits.

Some famous producers of Sauvignon Blanc, such as New Zealand’s Cloudy Bay, will conduct several pickings at various stages of ripeness, creating elements of greenness as well as ripeness to have a more complex palate of aromas.

Decisions made during winemaking also can have a profound influence on taste. The type of yeast used during fermentation is one example. Yeast is added to the juice of the grapes to start the fermentation that converts the sugar of the grapes into alcohol. Grapes from the same vineyard fermented with different yeasts often will produce very different wines.

Then there is the barrel. Many of the spice aromas, particularly cinnamon, vanilla, chocolate and nutmeg, are produced by fermentation or aging in a barrel. The impression of woodsmoke also usually comes from time spent in a barrel.

What is true about Frank’s assertion is that not everyone can taste the full array of aromas and flavors that are such a remarkable aspect of wine, especially a truly complex wine. Not all taste buds were created equal. Some people have more taste receptors than others, and many folks who can’t discern the aromas of wine simply have a poor sense of smell.

Most of what a person tastes in wine is perceived through the sense of smell. The only flavors the tongue can detect are sweet, sour, salty, bitter, etc. Fruit and spice aromas are perceived through the olfactory nerve

Realizing that some people can’t detect many or most of the aromas that can be found in a particular wine, I am careful to keep aroma descriptors to a minimum when reviewing a wine, using them generally when I believe they are the dominating element or so intriguing that they were the key element in the decision to recommend the wine.

If you are one of the unfortunate tasters who simply can’t distinguish the aromas, there is still hope! The most important factor in liking or not liking a wine is the overall impression it makes.

So here’s the ultimate taste test: When you sip a wine, does it make you smile?

The evening typically unfolds with friends ordering up great vintages of Barolo, Barbaresco and even Bordeaux.

As the wine list is passed to me, I feign exasperation that I will be able to match or top any of the wines that have come to the table amid much fanfare. But I quickly turn to a familiar page and point to a red wine that has served me so well in the past.

This has become my personal rite of Spring at the annual Vinitaly wine fair in Verona, Italy. I gather with friends and colleagues at the renowned enoteca, Bottega del Vino, and wait for just the right moment to surprise with my wine selection for the night.

Inevitably it is the Ruffino 1957 Riserva Ducale Oro, which Bottega miraculously manages to keep in stock. My choice is guaranteed to bring a hush to the table, for it is inconceivable that a nearly 50-year-old Chianti could stand alongside the noble and ageworthy red wines of Italy’s Piedmont region.

Sometimes, however, the conventional wisdom gets it wrong and even a room full of dedicated wine professionals can learn something new. Over the many years I have been using this ploy, only one bottle of the “Gold Label”, as it is known, has arrived in poor condition.

The point of this story is that Sangiovese, the most widely planted grape variety in Italy and the most prominent grape used in the myriad red wines of Tuscany, including Chianti, deserves a bit more respect from wine lovers the world over.

Not that a lack of respect isn’t well deserved. The Chianti of my youth, the same Italian wine most Americans drank when they dined in the neighborhood Italian restaurants that sprouted like weeks after the Second World War, was not very good.

It was made for quantity instead of quality. The straw baskets were cute, and no doubt helped sell many bottles of wine to the unsuspecting, but they contained a thin, insipid liquid that did little to enhance the reputation of one of Italy’s finest red wine regions.

Though there were a handful of producers, notably Ruffino, producing outstanding Chianti through that era, the awful wine in the straw baskets cemented Chianti’s image as a light-bodied wine that would most likely turn to vinegar with age.

The Brunello of Montalcino thus became the important red wine of Tuscany, for it was a long-lived wine of exceptional elegance and finesse. Few people understood that Brunello was made from the same Sangiovese grape, albeit a different clone, that was the base for Chianti.

The Chianti region underwent a renaissance in grape growing and winemaking more than 20 years ago that improved quality across the board and lifted many estates to new levels of stature. But the rap on Chianti as a wine for the moment has lingered.

So I was particularly pleased and curious during a recent Sangiovese symposium in Florence, Italy, to attend a tasting of ten vintages of Ruffino’s Riserva Ducale Oro that spanned 50 years.

The oldest Riserva Ducale poured, the 1955 vintage, still had some kick, though it would not have been a match for my beloved 1957. What impressed me about this wine, however, was that it overcame my initial impression that it was too tired and over the hill to deliver any pleasure and improved in the glass.

The early hints of balsamic and a slightly bitter dried herb character quickly dissipated as the wine got air and sweetened up, with expansive aromas and a broad, lingering palate.

A 1964 Riserva Ducale was even better, and on it went (the 1973 had a funky nose and was a disappointment, but other tasters who had been served from different bottles reported the ’73 was quite sound). Unanimous raves were accorded the stunning 1985 and I found the 1990, 1999 and 2001 to be exceptional as well.

”I’m modest, but I’m proud to say the Gold Label gained its reputation for consistency,” said Adolfo Folonari, whose family has owned Ruffino since 1913. “It set the standard in Chianti for many, many years.”

What should be encouraging to Chianti lovers who may have a desire to put away a few bottles for some far-off special occasion is the undeniable fact that improvements in farming and winemaking have made modern Chianti better than ever.

“Oh, I would love to be tasting the 2001 Gold Label 50 years from now,” said the still youthful Folonari. “I think it is an amazing wine.”

There is a strongly held perception among wine buffs that big in the wine business usually means bad. The knock seems to be that the big wine companies produce “commercial” wines while the small fries make wines that could pass for art.

Exactly what is so terribly wrong with “commercial” wines? Let’s define commercial wines as wines that are produced in quantities sufficient to supply the market, which is voracious at the moment.

Boutique wines may be wonderful to taste and often make my short list of favorite wines at the end of the year, but they can be difficult to obtain and usually more expensive than comparable commercial wines.

I choose the word “comparable” by design, for many commercial wines are in fact comparable to limited-production wines. I distinctly remember the great pleasure of opening a 12-year-old bottle of Clos du Bois Cabernet Sauvignon some time back. I had lost track of it in my wine cellar, and didn’t expect much when I dusted it off and pulled the cork.

This was a wine Clos du Bois made by the truck load, and I believe it sold for about $7 when the bottle was purchased. It had aged beautifully and was in impeccable condition when I poured it. This was no reserve or limited bottling, just a simple Sonoma County cab.

If anything, advances in technology and viticulture make it even easier today for a large wine company to put an outstanding wine on your table at a reasonable price.

A close review of the results from the 2006 San Diego International Wine Competition confirmed this view. While many small wineries did very well, the large wine companies kept pace. Examples abound.

Gallo Family Vineyards picked up an astounding 77 medals. Its most expensive medal-winning wine was the 2001 Louis M. Martini ‘Monte Rosso’ Cabernet Sauvignon at $60, but the vast majority of its medal-winners retail for between $10-$20.

The Bronco Wine Co. won 44 medals with brands such as Forest Glen and Napa Ridge, with prices predominantly in the $10-$15 range. Its most expensive winning wine, the 2001 Forest Glen Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon, retails for a suggested $19.99.

Beam Wine Estates, with more upscale brands such as organically grown wines of Wattle Creek and the exceptionally well-run Geyser Peak, took 23 medals. Its most expensive winning wine was the 2002 Wattle Creek ‘Vintage Select’ Shiraz at $65.
Brown-Forman (Fetzer, Bonterra, Five Rivers, Jekel) won 22 medals.

Constellation Wines (Covey Run, Robert Mondavi Private Selection, Vina Santa Carolina, etc.) bagged 24 medals.

Foster’s Wine Estates (Beringer, Penfolds, Lindemans, Rosemount) chipped in with 25.

The list goes on. The lesson is that big is not always bad. Even big wine companies can deliver an exceptional product if they have a focus on quality and a basic understanding of the competitive nature of the wine business.

Today’s wine consumer is far too savvy to drink bad wine when there is so much good wine to be had.

For a complete list of the San Diego competition results, visit www.sdiwc.com

Visiting the Napa Valley, if only by way of your wine cupboard, needn’t be an expensive proposition.

It’s a widely held myth that the Napa Valley has become an exclusive domain for the wealthy. The multitude of outrageously priced cult wines that carry a Napa Valley address contribute to that perception, but the reality is somewhat different.

It’s relatively painless to drink good Napa Valley wines without a huge bankroll. In fact, a number of my favorite Napa Valley wines rate as value wines when compared to the prices their neighbors often fetch. That is not to say they are cheap, but for the Napa Valley the prices are modest.

To illustrate this point, I’ve pulled together a list of top-notch Napa Valley producers that consistently churn out great wines at affordable prices:

Smith-Madrone makes only three wines and eschews “reserve” designations. What you get is mountain-grown wines from the Smith-Madrone estate on Spring Mountain, near the village of St. Helena. The cabernet sauvignon is always bold but well balanced, and it retails for $35, making it Smith-Madrone’s most expensive wine. The chardonnay is tightly wound and delicate, but delivers exceptional fruit intensity and shows but a light touch of the oak. The riesling is simply one of California’s finest.

Flora Springs is one of the great names in Napa Valley viticulture and it’s flagship wine, Trilogy, was one of the earliest red meritage wines produced in California. Trilogy is a fabulous red wine that relies upon finesse and balance and it routinely retails for less than $40, and this holiday season I spotted it for as little as $29. Flora Springs has some far more expensive cabernet sauvignon bottlings, but those are limited-production wines and do not reflect the overall value of Flora Springs wines. Other good bets are Flora Springs’ unusual sauvignon blanc, Soliloquy, two gorgeous chardonnays and a robust sangiovese. All of these wines retail for well under $40 a bottle.

Girard went through a major upheaval several years ago when owner Steve Girard sold his winery facility and surrounding property near the Silverado Trail to the Rudd family (Dean & Deluca and Rudd wines). He retained the Girard name and label, however, and now produces outstanding cabernet sauvignon, chardonnay and petite sirah with the assistance of star winemaker Marco DiGuilio. None of the Girard wines retails for more than $40, but they are all stellar.

Burgess Cellars is owned and operated by the very savvy but unpretentious Tom Burgess. For good old mountain-grown (off the Silverado Trail, on the eastern slopes) Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon, zinfandel and chardonnay at ridiculously low prices (mostly in the $20 range) Burgess is a difficult act to beat. Better yet, the Burgess wines are not overly manipulated nor drenched in sweet, new oak.

Mumm Napa Valley consistently delivers superior sparkling wine products that represent tremendous value. The best bet is the Brut Reserve that retails for $25. There are other bubblies that retail for less, too, without sacrificing taste or quality. To be sure, Mumm Napa Valley offers a prestige cuvee that might stretch the budget, but it’s core wines are relatively inexpensive for the Napa Valley and outstanding to boot.

Provenance recruited highly regarded winemaker Tom Rinaldi away from Duckhorn (a Napa Valley icon) before opening its doors a few years back. Rinaldi’s specialties are merlot and sauvignon blanc and he hasn’t disappointed with either at Provenance. He also turns out impressive cabernets from the Rutherford and Oakville districts. The best part, though, is that pricing is relatively modest and most of the good Provenance wines can be purchased for under $30.

In the gently rolling hills of the Champagne region, little more than an hour from Paris, sits a pristine picture-postcard village with a now famous Abbey, the Abbey of Hautvillers.

Legend has it that Dom Perignon, whose worldly role at the Abbey (when not addressing spiritual matters) was tending the vineyards, discovered Champagne.

That is, Dom Perignon noticed that many of the wines he made that had not finished fermenting before bottling in the spring had suddenly, as the warmth of summer arrived, started fermenting again in the bottle, producing bubbles and even, in many cases, exploding.

This was a problem throughout the northerly Champagne region, where the early onset of winter made the cellars of 200 years past so cold that all fermentations stopped. While many Champenoise scoff at the notion that Dom Perignon was the first to notice and the first to employ the now standard practice of methode champenoise, which involves deliberately inducing a second fermentation in the bottle, there is little question that the transformation of Champagne from a region producing mediocre still wines to a region producing majestic sparkling wines, i.e., Champagne, was nothing short of a miracle.
This miracle was trumpeted by none other than the Royal Court of France, which enjoyed sipping Champagne after coronations and other royal events held at the Cathedral at Reims, in the heart of the Champagne district. The royal revelers helped popularize Champagne in the salons of Paris, and the rest is history.

To this day it is virtually impossible to find a good Paris bistro that doesn’t offer at least two respectable coup de Champagnes, or Champagnes by the glass.

The custom of a glass of Champagne to begin with as an aperitif, or to toast good news or renewed friendship, has found its way to the New World. At no time is this more apparent than around the holidays, beginning with Thanksgiving and ending with New Year’s Eve.

Champagne is the beverage of choice in particular on New Year’s Eve, when the themes of renewal and celebration are strongest.
So strong is the identity of Champagne with all wine that bubbles that throughout the world, sparkling wines of every stripe are called Champagne by the majority of those who imbibe.

There is a huge difference, of course. The Champenoise get understandably rankled when a Spanish cava or California sparkling wine is dubbed “Champagne”, for legally only sparkling wine produced in the designated appellation of Champagne should be called Champagne, but the difference are greater than words or decrees.

Champagne possesses a unique taste and structure that springs from the chalky soils typically found in the Champagne region. Try as they might, sparkling wine producers throughout the world – from Spain to Italy to Australia to America – have tried to make a wine that tastes exactly like Champagne, without much success.

To a large extent this accounts for the often substantial difference in price between Champagne and comparable sparkling wines from other parts of the world. There is only so much true Champagne and the demand is growing faster than the supply.

Champagne prices also have been propped by a run of very good to outstanding vintages, notably the excellent 1995 and the stunning vintage of 1996. The harvest of 1997, 1998 and 1999, though not in the same league, were very good as well.

The upshot is that it’s difficult to go wrong on Champagne if you stick to the established “houses”, as the major Champagne producers are called. Though you’ll pay a bit more for Champagne than other sparkling wines, you’ll have the real deal, and from excellent vintages, too.

Before you buy, however, it’s important to understand the differences in Champagne prices. The most basic Champagne, and the least expensive, is non-vintage brut. These wines are produced by blending multiple vintages to achieve the “house” style. The practice of blending allows a “house” to maintain its style in spite of a bad recent vintage. Non-vintage bruts start at about $24 a bottle and can retail for as much as $45, depending upon the cachet of the producer.

My personal favorites are Pol Roger, Veuve Clicquot, Perrier-Jouet, Piper-Heidsieck, Pommery, Taittinger and Mumm Cordon Rouge. These are all well established and fairly large Champagne houses and their wines are fairly easy to find. If someone put a gun to my head and said I could choose only two of those, they would be the Pol Roger and Piper-Heidsieck.

Many houses also produce a non-vintage brut rose, and by far the best of these is made by Laurent Perrier, a small house with very high standards. This wine retails for about $45 and it’s worth every penny. Rose Champagnes are a surprisingly good match with red and white meats, and exceptionally good with roasted duck. Billecart Salmon also produces a very stylish and popular rose Champagne.

Vintage Champagnes occupy the next rung of the latter. Produced in far smaller quantities and aged longer prior to release, they are more expensive and represent the best a vintage has to offer. Most houses will not “declare” a vintage, in other words produce vintage Champagne, if conditions don’t warrant.
Vintage Champagnes typically have more depth and power than non-vintage brut blends, and are meant to be served with food rather than as an aperitif. Caviar comes to mind, but realistically that’s not in everyone’s budget. But smoked salmon, appetizers of every ilk, especially fried or salty, pair well with vintage Champagne. And, of course, these wines are excellent with fish, shellfish and courses such as roasted fowl and white meats.

I can honestly say I have never had a bad bottle of vintage Champagne from a major house. Some I like better than others simply because of stylistic preference – say the finesse of a Pol Roger or the power of a Bollinger – but it has little to do with the quality of what’s in the bottle.

The top rung – read most expensive – of Champagne is the prestige, or tetes de cuvee. These are Champagnes produced from the finest vineyards – usually its grand cru vineyards – a house has at its disposal. The prestige cuvees are often aged seven to ten years on the yeast before being disgorged and sold.

These are truly remarkable wines made in miniscule quantities and the priced reflects the reality that a tetes de cuvee is expensive to produce.
The best tetes de cuvee I tasted in the past year, for example, was the 1995 Charles Heidsieck Blanc des Millenaires, which retails for $90. Considering this wine was released ten years after it was made, the price is hardly unreasonable.

Dominique Lafon:
One Foot in the Past, One Foot in the Future

By Robert Whitley

MEURSAULT, France – It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to call this small village toward the southern end of Burgundy’s Cote d’Or the center of the white wine universe.

Though Meursault can claim no grand cru vineyards, its chardonnays are prized the world over for their intense minerality, remarkable complexity and the ability to age for decades in a proper cellar.

They certainly rival the important wines from the neighboring villages of Puligny and Chassagne, and the vigneron Dominique Lafon is responsible for that in no small measure. I confess to a fondness for the best of Meursault, even over the three wonderful grand cru vineyards nearby – Montrachet, Batard Montrachet and Chavalier Montrachet.

And few would argue that Domaine des Comtes Lafon is not the master of Meursault, particularly the premier cru vineyards of Charmes, Perrieres, Genevrieres and Goutte d’Or. In the hierarchy of the vineyards of Burgundy, premier cru ranks just below grand cru in the official classification.
Nowhere is the justice of the classification more suspect than in Meursault. Wine enthusiasts lucky enough to have ever tasted a Meursault-Charmes or Meursault-Genevrieres with 10 to 15 years of bottle age understand that finer chardonnay does not exist.

So it is hardly a surprise that everyone takes notice when
Dominique Lafon thinks outside the box.

He was among the first vignerons in Burgundy to experiment
with bio-dynamic farming some 15 years ago, which eventually
led him to park his tractor in the barn and hitch his plough to a
horse to till the domaine’s vineyards.

“Most of my neighbors said, ‘You are stupid,’”Lafon says with
great emphasis on the word stupid.

He laughs.

“Now, they want to borrow my plough.”

Lafon’s most recnt folly is a serious investment in the Maconnais region of Burgundy. He purchased his first vineyards in the Macon in 1999 and is now up to 14 hectares, or about 30 acres.

This development has made Frederic Burrier of Chateau de Beauregard a very happy man.

Beauregard is situated in a sweet spot in the Macon and produces a lovely Pouilly-Fuisse that is popular because of its freshness and easy drinkability. This is the style for which the Macon is known. It doesn’t hurt their popularity that the wines of the Macon also are inexpensive in relation to the rest of Burgundy.

But Burrier is leader of the organization of vignerons of Pouilly-Fuisse and he is a man on a mission.

“It says quite a bit about the quality of our terroir that great domaines from the Cote d’Or have come in and purchased vineyards here,” said Burrier. “So we are encouraging more of our growers to produce wines for their own domain from their best terroir.”

The upshot is that the wines of the Macon are bound to improve as a result, and still the prices will be attractive in relation to the wines from the top classifications of the Cote d’Or.

“I used to buy wines in the Macon,” said Lafon. “I kind of liked them. It’s still one of the places in Burgundy where you can start with no money and make good wines. Here in (the Cote d’Or) you can’t do that. Vineyards are very expensive. But the soil in the Macon is good.

“I could have looked for vineyards in some other part of France, the Rhone or Provence, and learned how to work with grapes that would have been new for me. But why? In the Macon it’s the soil I know, and I’m working with the grapes I know.”

Lafon is producing a range of single-vineyard chardonnays from the Macon that represent great value for white Burgundy – stunning chardonnay from a brilliant vigneron in the $20 price range.

“They will never be as complex as a Meursault, but they are good, generous wines,” said Lafon. “We can get to a really nice level of wine – much better than the vision people have of the Macon.”

You only wonder what the neighbors must think.

Alsace Heaven for ABC Crowd

By Robert Whitley

COLMAR, France – It is hardly unusual here in the center of Alsace to encounter a vigneron whose family set up shop in the wine business in the 16th or 17th century. Stability and continuity are prized in this stunningly beautiful region that over the centuries has taken turns between pledging allegiance to both Germany and France.

Alsace is wedged between the Rhine and Germany to the east and the Vosges Mountains and the rest of France to the west. From its northernmost vineyards near Strasbourg to its southern extremes around the city of Mulhouse, Alsace is a cigar-shaped wine region that runs about 70 miles from one tip to the other.

Many of its vineyards are steeply sloped – among the steepest in all of France – and the warm, dry climate is perfect for the rich, beautifully structured style of wine that has evolved since the area recovered from the devastation of World War II. The Vosges range blocks the marine influence from the Atlantic and protects Alsace from storms and rain at harvest, allowing the grapes to fully mature before picking in most vintages.

“We have two kinds of vintages in Alsace,” said vigneron Jean-Claude Riefle of Domaine Riefle. “Outstanding and very good.”

Because Alsace is too far north to produce serious red wine, the vast majority of Alsatian wine is white. Very small amounts of pinot noir are made to serve with the specialty of the region – choucroute – but in most vintages (the very hot year of 2003 being the exception) the pinot is relatively light and uninteresting and little of it is shipped to the United States.

Alsatian wines have found new popularity in the U.S. in recent years as the ABC crowd (Anything But Chardonnay) has grown and gained market clout. Chardonnay is cultivated in Alsace, but it is permitted to be used only for sparkling wine – the light and refreshing Cramant d’Alsace.
The interest in Alsatian wines has been nothing like the raging love affair with Italian pinot grigio, but the Alsatians are ever hopeful.

Severine Schlumberger

DOMAINES SCHLUMBERGER

“Our bone dry pinot blanc is doing very well in the U.S., particularly in restaurants,” noted Severine Schlumberger of Domaines Schlumberger. “Now I am working with the winemaker to make our pinot gris in more of a dry style, too. We aren’t quite where I would like to be, but we’re getting closer.”

Indeed, it is the perception of sweetness that slows Alsatian wines in the United States. The shape of the Alsatian bottle – tall and narrow – mirrors the shape of sweet wines from Germany. But most Alsatian wines are dry or slightly off-dry. An abundance of acidity, however, balances the off-dry wines from the better producers, consequently they don’t display apparent sweetness on the palate.

The primary grape varieties in Alsace are riesling, gewürztraminer, pinot blanc and pinot gris. Other white varieties exists, but are difficult to find in the U.S.
Alsace also produces some of the finest dessert wines in the world, remarkably complex Vendange Tardive and Selection de Grains Nobles wines that rival the great wines of Sauternes and Barsac from the western part of France.

Two historic families of Alsace – Trimbach and Hugel – have dominated the Alsatian wine market in the United States over the past 30 years. Both produce impeccably made wines at good prices and deserve the huge following they enjoy.

Other top producers are beginning to make inroads, albeit sometimes small inroads given the small, family owned profile of most producers in the region.

Laurence Faller

DOMAINES WEINBACH

Here are a few outstanding Alsatian producers to watch for:

PIERRE SPARR recently passed Hugel and moved into second place in total exports of Alsatian wines to the U.S. (Trimbach is No. 1). The Sparr family owns many parcels of Alsace Grands Crus vineyards and produces superb wines. Sparr is generating excitement these days with a new wine, Alsace One, which is a blend of several different grape varieties. Alsace One is a refreshing, bone dry introduction to Alsatian wine. Alsace One is an answer to Hugel’s blend, Gentil. Both wines sell for about $10.

DOMAINES WEINBACH is owned and managed by three women, Colette Faller and her daughters Christine and Laurence. The winery has been in the family since 1898 and specializes in special cuvees from grands crus vineyards. Laurence Faller is the winemaker and she is absolutely brilliant, crafting some of the richest and most complex wines in Alsace. Her special riesling cuvees range in price from $30 to $60, but worth it. The Domaine Weinbach wines are farmed bio-dynamically.

JOSMEYER is the realm of the gifted Jean Meyer, whose wines may well be the finest in all of Alsace. Meyer is committed to bio-dynamic farming and eschews much of the conventional wisdom about Alsatian wine. He is not fond of the richer, off-dry wines of the region, preferring steely, bone-dry wines that will age magnificently. “Sweetness is only a mask for defects,” Meyer says. “My job is to grow grapes that taste like something, that taste wonderful. Then preserve that taste in the wine. That is the life of the vine. My job is to preserve that life.” That said, Josmeyer does produce Vendange Tardive and Selection de Grains Nobles wines in exceptional vintages.

DOMAINES SCHLUMBERGER is the largest “estate” only producer in Alsace. It grows all of its own grapes and produces wines in a rich, full-bodied style similar to the wines of Domaines Weinbach. No producer in Alsace has more grands crus vineyard than Schlumberger and that commitment to the highest quality is reflected in the elegance and richness of the wines. “Our wines are rich because of the terroir,” said Severine Schlumberger, who took the reins of the company from her father in 2001. “These are very low yielding vineyards and they give us very ripe grapes.”

Hook & Ladder Comes to Rescue
of De Loach Family

By Robert Whitley

Ever since bankruptcy forced the sale of the family business, Michael De Loach has felt like he was going through an out-of-body experience every time he saw someone order a De Loach wine in a restaurant.

De Loach, an early pioneer in California’s Russian River Valley, was founded by Michael’s father, Cecil, more than a quarter-century ago. The name and many of the De Loach vineyards were sold off to satisfy creditors after the winery suffered hard times the family attributed to rapid expansion.

De Loach is still very much around – operated now by the large French wine company, Boisset – but the De Loach family hasn’t really left the scene. The family was able to keep about 400 acres of vineyard in the Russian River Valley following the sale, and the family has started anew with Hook & Ladder.

Those who know the De Loach wines will remember that Cecil De Loach at one time was a San Francisco fireman – with a hook & ladder company. The H&L wines have been in the market for less than a year, but they bear a striking resemblance to the De Loach wines of old under Cecil’s direction.
They’re sleek, easy to drink and deliver far more quality than prices (between $15 and $25) would suggest.

Michael, who joined his father to help market the wines, now has that out-of-body experience only when he introduces himself to a potential new client only to have the customer ramble on about the De Loach wines of yore.

“I’m getting used to it,” Michael De Loach said recently. “And I’m happy people had such a positive experience with De Loach. But it doesn’t take long to turn the conversation back to Hook & Ladder.”

The major difference between the wines his father made then and now seems to be in the chardonnays. De Loach was in on the early popularity of chardonnay in the U.S. market, when wines such as Kendall-Jackson Vintner’s Reserve and Fetzer Sundial turned chardonnay into a cocktail beverage.
Though a more upscale version of those wines, De Loach chardonnay’s were from the same model, leaving just a trace of sugar in the wine after fermentation to give it a full, round, creamy texture.

The Hook & Ladder chards (a Russian River and a reserve) are fermented dry and the influence of oak is less obvious.

“There is more demand for this leaner, more restrained style of chardonnay and it’s been well received,” said Michael De Loach.

De Loach also was once famed for it’s impressive selection of single-vineyard zinfandels, but at Hook & Ladder it’s just one zin for the world, though that could change as the winery finds its footing.

“We came out of the sale pretty well positioned,” said Michael. “And we’re going to keep growth in check. De Loach just got too big (more than 300,000 cases) for us and distribution was a challenge.”

For fans of the De Loach wines this is the best of both worlds. The De Loach wines haven’t disappeared, and neither has the old fireman, Cecil De Loach.

Rising Rhone Ranger:
Santa Barbara's
Steve Beckmen

By Robert Whitley

Winemaker Steve Beckmen can remember a time not so long ago when Syrah was viewed as a novelty wine in Santa Barbara County, the southern anchor of California’s vast Central Coast winegrowing region.

Beckmen and his father, Tom, arrived in Santa Barbara County’s Santa Ynez Valley in 1994 and found plenty of chardonnay and cabernet as well as an industry struggling to find its identity.

“I looked around and admired what Bob Lindquist was doing at Qupe,” said Beckmen.

Qupe’s Lindquist was, of course, one of the original so-called “Rhone Rangers.” That would be a California winemaker who had embraced the wines of France’s Rhone Valley and attempted to establish the Rhone grape varieties in California.

Those grape varieties were primarily viognier, roussane and marsanne in the whites and syrah, grenache and mourvedre in the reds.

Success was fleeting in the beginning despite determined efforts by the early pioneers – Napa’s Joseph Phelps Vineyards, Randall Grahm’s Bonny Doon in the Central Coast and Santa Barbara’s Qupe. Consumers had been slow to come around, making many vintners reluctant to plunge into Rhone-style wines despite growing conditions that seemed ideal.

But as America evolved toward a “foodie” culture and more ordinary people came to appreciate food and wine affinities, the seductive, fruit-driven, food friendly wines of the Rhone grew some cache – first in restaurants – and a boom began.

Beckmen Vineyards, despite its youth, has become an important player in the second generation of Rhone specialists. The key element in Beckmen’s evolution was the purchase of the Purisima Ranch, which, as luck would have it, happens to be an extraordinary site for syrah and grenache.

PURISMA