5
Oct
2012
0

Linkin’ logs 10-5-12

There’s a whole lotta heavy-duty news I could send your way, but for me serious times call for a little levity, or at least cleverness. To wit:

• I’m not crazy about beer out of cans, so I seriously doubt I would have any use for wine packaged the same way. Guess I’m not the target audience here.

• At first blush, this list of ways that wine is like women might seem sexist if not misogynist. But there’s some truth (and a consequence or two) in there, too.

This inventive device in the photo (of a new-equipment roundup) is tailor-made for my way better half’s son, who lives in San Francisco, bikes way more than he drives and loves him some red wine.

• And finally, a little musical interlude. A seriously gorgeous one, in fact.

5
Oct
2012
0

Profile: Mark & Pattie Bjornson, Bjornson Vineyard

If you didn’t know that Pattie and Mark Björnson were from Minnesota, a few minutes’ conversation would make it apparent. They’re exceedingly nice, smart and serious about ecology and about their work, earnest without any of that self-importance thing.

They also are quietly proud of having fulfilled their dream: starting a vineyard and opening a winery in Oregon’s Willamette Valley. They had lived in Minnesota, raising four kids, until Mark’s work took them to Oregon in 2005 and spawned a vision that had begun with a simpler goal, being organic farmers.

In short order, a 107-acre farm was theirs, and they started planting vines at the Eola-Amity Hills site. Their first wine, a 2009 pinot noir, has a lovely nose and nice cherry and herbal elements, charming, unquestionably Willamette juice.

They came back to the Twin Cities to get with friends, and over lunch I was enjoying hearing their story so much that I did a terrible job of writing down who said what. So here are Pattie or Mark on several topics:

The original plan: “We didn’t know. We thought we would grow and sell and might eventually have a winery. Well, next year we break ground on the winery. We want to get up to 30 acres [they’re halfway there], and we’ll still sell most of it.”

Their terroir: “It can be 90 degrees and the winds pick up and our acres cools down. … Our vineyard ended up with a little more black fruit [than other Willamette locales].” 

The right elevation in Willamette: “The sweet spot is 350 to 750 feet. Above that, in a cool year, you’ll have difficulty getting ripe. We’ve had great wine from grapes grown at 1,000 feet, but one out of three years you get no crop.”

Clones: “We really like Wadenswil, one of the original two they used out here. It fell out of favor and now is hot again. It’s spicier and can ripen a little more slowly. We also use Pommard and 777.” 

Yields: “We have contracts, but there is just a lot of trust [with clients], so they’re usually OK with buying by the ton. I like to do it by the ton. You go down from 4½ to 2½ tons [per acre] and get more quality, all things being equal it will be better. But from 2½ tons to 1½, that’s not necessarily the case.” 

Their focus: “Our priorities are simple: care for the land, make exceptional wine and enjoy life’s journey.”

That’s a set of goals that fits equally well in Minnesota and Oregon.

2
Oct
2012
0

Wines worth treasuring, friends worth treasuring more

I’ve been blessed over the past several weeks to spend a lot of time with my kind of wine people. Simply put, that would be wine lovers who don’t love (or talk) it to death, who bring an abundance of generosity and curiosity to our gatherings, who understand that wine is for sharing, and exploring it in fun ways is an endeavor worth relishing.

These folks are also generous of spirit, have gotten over wanting to be the smartest person in the room (if they ever were that way, which I doubt) and truly wish to know what others think.

One such occasion was a two-nighter, an experiment to test the biodynamic calendar, which alternates between optimum and crummy times for drinking. Our host, Larry, had us in the same room sampling the same wines in the same order at the same hour. Not sure if the barometric pressures, which also are said to affect tasting experiences, were closely aligned.

The results, alas, were inconclusive. For most of us, some wines were more expressive and tasty on the first evening, others on the second. Larry was nonplussed, seeming to be more concerned that we had not had a revelatory experience than that his hoped-for results were not achieved.

Later that second evening, after we had devoured about half of Alaska’s crab legs, Larry proposed that we blend a Spanish garnacha and Austrian gruner veltliner to make “rosé.” Now this was a successful procedure, producing a “wine” that might have been better than the sum of its parts. I always forget how much fun this bit of blending can be, even when the results are, in Minnesota parlance, “interesting” or “different.”

We came back to the same locale a week or so later for a thank-you feast. When we arrived, Larry and a co-worker were sampling two sets of wine. I assumed they were different vintages of the same wine, but it turned out that they were the same wines, and one bottle of each had been refrigerated for 2-plus hours and the other plunged in icy water for 20 or 30 minutes. Both the Chablis and Champagne showed better out of the fridge than the bucket, we all agreed.

Later that night, as we were drooling over steaks my friend Joe had brought in from Lobel’s in NYC “” have I mentioned that these people are magnificently magnanimous? “” Joe brought out a bottle of 1974 Chappellet Napa Cab. It was stupendous, showing no sign of old age, every drop worth savoring.

As we were finishing it off, Larry headed inside. When he returned, he bore another bottle from that era: the 1973 Stag’s Leap Wine Cellar Cabernet. Yes, the same wine that won the 1976 Paris tasting, advancing the cause of California wine immeasurably.

I hope I don’t even to mention that this was anything but a my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours deal. Larry ain’t wired that way. He just thought it would be cool to try that wine with another ’73 Napa cab.

Alas, the Stag’s Leap was pretty much spent, pruny but still quaffable. No matter. I got a much bigger buzz out of my two friends’ extraordinary benevolence than any wine could provide.

30
Sep
2012
0

Wines of the Week: Sept. 24-30

Everyday: To cap an evening dominated by large-and-in-charge reds, it’s always nice to have a clean, refreshing white. I was reminded of that last night in the early a.m. when my friend Lee brought out a Felines Jourdan Picpoul de Pinet ($11). It was appropriately tangy but also fruitier than most picpouls, with pear playing off the usual green-apple notes. That made for a super-fresh finish to the wine and to the night. Enjoy it with shellfish or fried fish, or on the patio in the early (or late) evening.

Occasion: Anything with Alvaro Palacios’ name on it is seriously OK by me, but most of his wines from Spain’s Priorat region are out of my financial league (even though they’re worth the money). Happily, his Camins del Priorat ($22) is an affordable bottle filled of richness and elegance. A blend of carignan, garnacha and cabernet sauvignon, it perennially boasts firm and focused fruit and texture followed by a smooth-as-all-get-out finish. Big enough to play well with grilled meats, it also should pair nicely with game or fowl dishes or some roasted winter squash.

28
Sep
2012
0

Merry Edwards still doing it her way

Merry Edwards’ business card reads “Reine de Pinot” (Queen of Pinot), and it’s no brag, just fact. But in recent years, her eponymous winery has gotten more acclaim for its sauvignon blanc.

She’s not about to complain.

“It’s good to be in the Wine Spectator no matter what,” Edwards said at her winery on the northern end of Sebastopol, Calif. “The sauvignon blanc gets the attention because it’s so
Merry SBdifferent. It’s barrel-fermented; no one [before her] wanted to do all barrels. Guys who don’t like sauvignon blanc like this one because it has body. “

Indeed, it is a lush, lusty, voluptuous but balanced offering, year in and year out, thoroughly Californian but for one thing.

“People don’t have the right vision of sauvignon blanc. They don’t think it’s ageable. I make wines that age, that’s my thing,” she said.

She started making it in 2001, “and it took off like a ruptured duck. It’s interesting to take on a variety that’s out of favor. People were pulling out sauvignon blanc and putting in pinot and chardonnay. Now people are planting sauvignon blanc all over [the Russian River Valley]. 

Still, Edwards, who made her bones as a winemaker and/or consultant at Mount Eden, Matanzas Creek, Michel-Schlumberger, Murphy-Goode and even a few wineries whose names don’t begin with “M,” seems like she has pinot noir coursing through her veins. A Merry
handsome woman who looks younger than her age (which I shall not share), she started her winery in 1997 and quickly gained a cult following for her pinots.

“Our offices were in the basement at home in Forestville, and it was me, my sister and a lady from across the street,” she said. Now she has a spanking-new, solar-powered facility with a radio-operated punchdown system; a corner office next to a state-of-the art laboratory (the adjacency “is not a coincidence,” she said with a big ol’ smile. “I’m compulsive about having all the data. 

She has seen a sea change in the quality of pinot noir and the quantity of wineries making it, particularly in her beloved Russian River Valley

“Thirty years ago nobody knew what the Russian River Valley was,” she said. “But with good clonal choices, better planting, better canopy management, better nutrition systems we now see what it can be. 

“It’s not just because people figured out how to make great wines. The special nature of this place, the physical nature is what makes it great. So actually the Russian River Valleyis the grand cru of America, maybe the grand cru of the world. 

Not that she wants to see it designated as such. “I disagree with the concept. Number one, it’s a French system. Plus, we’re already getting in trouble with the appellation system. To me the [name of the] region defines the quality. But it also can end up like a caste system, where you can never escape it. 

Edwards said a lot of credit also belongs to collaborations with Oregon vintners at an annual technical symposium that began three decades ago. “People would bring problem wines and good wines,” she said. “Back then the movers and shakers were not only sharing their wines but sharing their research. It was primarily related to winemaking technique, but it was effective at unifying people.

“Pinot noir winemakers are fanatics. They love sharing their information, which cabernet people never do.”

Walky TalkiesFor all the progress on the wine front, Edwards has not seen nearly as many strides on the gender front. She has a pretty good why. “It’s a difficult career for women in terms of having a family. You’re doing a lot of traveling, which is really hard when you have small kids,” she said.

“I timed my kids not to be born in the middle of harvest, which most do. My mom came out for harvests. I never could have done it without her. When I was at Matanzas Creek, we had a walkie-talkies to let me know when to come breast-feed.

“You’ll notice that quite a few women winemakers don’t have kids.”



 

25
Sep
2012
0

Linkin’ logs: News of the really weird

What a weird week, capped yesterday by my schlepping to a trade tasting that had been canceled, only the wholesaler forgot to tell anyone. Lots of good eating and quaffing over the last seven days, of course, but more than a little bit of unusual news. To wit:

I was working on a story about one-hit wonders (today is their day, btw) when a friend alerted me to a little-known fact about one of the first instances. It turns out that a certain Mr. Key apparently didn’t actually write the music for our national anthem, but rather cribbed it from an English drinking song.

Then came the news that a Swedish company has released boxed wines in the shape of designer handbags. And that a similarly stylish set of “wine apartments” is going up in Tokyo.

But even in a week when word arrived that an Italian vintner is releasing Hitler-themed wines, the most bizarre story came out of my home state of Tennessee, involving a fraternity’s latest escapade: butt-chugging wine. Don’t care for the nose on that one.

24
Sep
2012
0

‘Perfect’ season presents its own challenges

The last two years have brought challenging weather to West Coast vintners, with cooler-than-usual temperatures creating lower yields and dicey conditions for optimum grape ripeness. For those who prefer lower alcohol, 2010 and ’11 should provide plenty of lucrative options.

This year, on the other hand, the weather has been nigh onto perfect up and down the coast. Two weeks ago, picking was well underway, and Merry Edwards showed us two nearly full tanks of crushed pinot grapes.

But ideal weather can bring its own challenges. And one man’s “perfect” conditions can prove problematic for others.

Here are three Sonoma vintners’ takes on the last three vintages:

Jeff Stewart, Hartford Court: “This year is earlier from a farming standpoint and eventually from a winemaking standpoint. But we’re not sitting back. It’s gonna rain at some point. The fruit’s happy. We wanna get going. We’ve cleaned everything five times. “¦ There are all these expectations of a “˜perfect’ year, and that’s OK but I like the 2011s; it was cooler and they’re more focused and more structured. The 2010s are a little more restrained, will age better. I’ll lay down my 2010s and ’11s.”

Mike Sullivan, Benovia: “In a “˜perfect’ vintage, when everything seems too good, you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop “¦ The last few years we’ve had low yields; some coastal grapes we just didn’t put in [their blends], but it was nice to see ripe flavors and good acidity. We didn’t get the explosive flavors you come to expect from the Russian River Valley. In 2010 we cut off half the zin crop “¦ [This year] your hand isn’t forced. It’s like “˜where do I want to see this?’ We want some grapes that are a little less ripe. The vegetative growth has been ideal. It’s mimicking 2002 and 1997, where you got higher quality and higher quantity. 

Mick Unti, Unti Vineyards: “2010 was our kind of year, except for the heat spike. Every year we go “˜damn it, wouldn’t it be great to have all our wines come in under 14 percent?’ In 2011 we were trying to get the grapes off the vine before they fell off. Those two years taught us that it’s OK to make wine from less than very ripe grapes. Instead of “˜Oh, that vineyard’s OK; let’s give it two more days so we get no green tannins,’ we’re more comfortable getting it a few days earlier. We know it’s not Armageddon. Now we can be a little more precise about how we manage a quintessential California vintage to make wine that is in our wheelhouse. 

23
Sep
2012
0

Wines of the Week: Sept. 17-23

Everyday: It’s hard to find a Portuguese red these days that doesn’t offer decent bang for the buck, but the Udaca Irreverente Tinto ($11) is a flat-out killer bargain. The usual blend of touriga nacional and other obscure (to us) grapes, this hearty red has a friendly, slightly smoky nose and gorgeous red fruit year in and year out. It’s a great introduction to Portugal even though it straddles the line between the old and new world styles that are the cause of no small amount of rancor down Iberia way. It’s big enough for grilled beef and approachable enough for burger, barbecue or pizza night.

Occasion: One of the truly swell things about going to Wine Country is getting a chance to sample lesser-known wines in restaurants, sometimes even by the glass. The Davis Family Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir 2009 ($40) was a revelation on our recent trip. Juicy blue fruit and firm backbone make for an enticing mouthfeel that gives way to a finish that somehow is both crisp and silky. It’s very food-friendly, playing beautifully with both the salmon and rack of lamb that my way better half and I enjoyed with it (on the Sonoma coast, btw, overlooking the mouth of the Russian River). Can’t wait to try it at home with roast chicken and winter squash.

 

21
Sep
2012
0

Mike Sullivan, scientist/vigneron

Although he says “I think of myself more as a vigneron than a California winemaker,” it’s no surprise that Mike Sullivan ended up with the latter job title. His destiny should have been clear early on. Very early on.

“When I was really young,” he said, “I thought I’d want to be a pharmacist or something science-leaning. 

SullivanNow that he’s a strapping adult, Sullivan’s expertise in chemistry and botany have helped make Benovia one of Sonoma’s best wineries.

Sullivan truly is a vigneron, overseeing Benovia’s 72 acres of estate vineyards and crafting delicious chardonnays, pinot noirs and zinfandels from three locales.

Sullivan grew up in this area, then at age 18 spent a transformational summer working at Chateau St. Jean. “Before I fell in love with wine,” he said, “I fell in love with the place, then I fell in love with the people and the lifestyle. 

He started working in the Sonoma Coast and Russian River areas in the late 1980s and became winemaker at Hartford Family Wines, where his offerings got consistently high (and well-deserved) scores from the critical powers that be. In 2005 Sullivan, who still looks like he could play power forward at the college level, got a chance to add general manager and part-owner to his job titles at Benovia.

The vineyards Benovia purchased over the last decade grew fruit that went to the likes of Kosta-Browne and Williams Selyem, but the land around the new winery was mostly fruit trees. “Apple and plum trees have gone the way of the dinosaur around here,” Sullivan said with a chuckle.

That’s because this is prime turf for the grapes that made Burgundy famous: pinot noir and chardonnay.

Benovia’s “La Pommaraie” Chardonnay offers up what Sullivan calls the “yin and yang” of Bella Unarichness and minerality, with gorgeous pineapple flavors and nice depth. The “Bella Una” Pinot Noir had the same yin-yang properties and a long, elegant finish.

Sullivan said he and his team “look for texture and density all the way from when it’s juice. But in terms of structure, with pinot noir it comes at the end.  Like most pinot-philes, he’s very exacting about this finicky grape. “Pinot noir needs to be picked on the right day and crushed on the right day. With cabernet there’s nothing you can do to improve the quality. You’re just preserving. 

Pinot, he added, “is kind of an endless discovery. With cab there’s a discovery phase and then that’s it. With pinot noir, the more layers of the onion you peel back, the more you find. With pinot you can be drinking a very simple one, a Beaune-Villages or Santa Lucia Highlands blend, and get a great experience. With cab you only get that at the high end. 

Having a varietal he cherishes so much might help explain why Sullivan has become more judicious in his use of oak over the years. “It’s a cliché,” he said, “but when you’re younger, more is better. Now I’m at 40 percent new and probably dropping from there. It’s a player, but it’s got to be a background player. 

Minimizing the effects of the oak fit in with something every good botanist knows: A wine’s duty is to let the vineyard shine.