Dear Subscribers,
You've probably noticed that there was no blog in your inbox this week. I could blame the problem on Covid (it is blamed for everything else) but the truth is that a broken computer and a heavy buildup of snow, were really the culprits.
Computer is running once again and thanks to my son, the snow has been shoveled.
Look for the next blog, "Wine and Music" in your inbox, Januray 7, 2022.
Happy New Year!
Gerald D. Boyd
Back in the Dark Ages of wine interest, that would be the 1960s or thereabout, the only Chilean wine I remember seeing in stores was a Riesling from Vina Undurraga, from the Maipo region.
What attracted my attention then was the unique bottle that stood out for its shape from all the others on the shelf. The folks at Undurraga must have thought their Riesling was similar to the distinctive wines of Germany's Franken region, so they put their wine in a Bocksbeutel, a special bottle in the shape of a flattened flask.
The bottle shape was a standout, especially alongside tall and slim German wine bottles. What I remember about the Undurraga wine was that it lacked the pale color and fresh fruit salad aroma and flavors of a Franken wine, which then might have been made from Sylvaner and not Riesling.
Since then, I don't recall many sightings of Undurraga wines, at least on the West Coast, even though the Chilean winery began exporting to the United States in 1903.
Today, Chile is a major player in the international wine market. In 2013, Chilean wine production stood at 317 million gallons, with more than 75% of that exported. It has been said that one of the differences between the neighboring wine-producing countries of Chile and Argentina, is that Chile exports most of its wine, while the Argentines drink most of their wine; about 326 million gallons.
Chile is 2,670 miles long, from the Atacama desert in the north to Patagonia in the south, but only 217 miles wide at the widest point. It is this shape that makes Chile unique, especially for viticulture. The Pacific ocean is not far from many vineyards nor is the towering snow-capped Andes mountains that forms the spine of this long and narrow country.
Chile's fortune grew in the late 19th century when Spanish rule ended, a number of rich Basque families entered the wine business and the country's growing viticulture business dodged a bullet -- namely phylloxera.
| Phylloxera infestation |
Phylloxera vastatrix (the devastator), a small yellow aphid, was destroying the vineyards of Europe, but it never entered Chile, because of the country's natural barriers: desert in the north, mountains in the east, cold temperatures and snow in the south and an ocean in the west.
By the mid-20th century, Chilean grape growing and wine making had moved forward, thanks to the infusion of foreign capital and European know-how. As the industry grew, these initial wine regions became Chile's most important.
Aconcagua: Traditionally, the northern most fine wine region, that in recent years has been joined by more northern and smaller Choapa, Limari and Elqui. Coastal breezes help to keep temperatures cool enough for Chardonnay, Pinot Noir and Sauvignon Blanc. Vina Errazuriz is the best known name.
Casablanca: Situated between Valparaiso and Santiago, Casablanca is known for its cool climate whites, such as Sauvignon Blanc. A short distance from the Pacific ocean, the area and neighboring San Antonio Valley produce some of Chile's best sparkling wines.
Central Valley: The heart of Chile's wine production is in the region called the "Central Valley." Although not an actual named wine zone, the Central Valley includes such noted sub regions as Maipo, Maule, Curico, Rapel and Colchagua. Red wines predominate, especially Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. Also important are Carmenere and Sauvignon Blanc. Among the best known names from this large region are Las Vascos, Vina Montes, Casa Lapostelle and Santa Rita.
| Yerba mate leaves, with mate calabash and straw |
Before fine table wines, there was pisco and mate. In fact, both drinks are still popular in Chile and Peru.
Pisco is a colorless high spirit brandy, distilled to about 40% abv and made from a variety of grapes, including Muscat, Torrontel and Pedro Jimenez. Peru and Chile have been engaged in a long-standing dispute over the origin of pisco. There is a long list of cocktails made with pisco, but the Pisco Sour one of the most popular.
Mate, or Yerba Mate, is a tea-like drink, made by soaking yerba mate leaves in hot water. The drink, said to have a mild calming affect, is served in a calabash gourd with a metal straw. ADD
Next blog: Wine and Music
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
In Episode 22 of this personal journey, the narrative veered off the wine trail for a brief look at single malt Scotch whisky, a drink I think of as the "wine" of Scotland. We're back on the wine trail in this episode, with a few remembrances from Australia, a fascinating place for its scenery, people and wine and about as far from Scotland as you can get.
When I was station in Hawaii in the U.S. Air Force, word got around that the Air Force had a comm station in Townsville, Queensland,Australia. Wine was not big on my list then, but diving was. So, when I discovered that Townsville and the Great Barrier Reef were in Queensland, I volunteered for temporary duty (TDY) in Townsville.
Someone beat me to it, but the Air Force, in all its unexplained wisdom, decided that, instead of Australia, I would be sent TDY ( Temporary Duty) to Johnston Island, a two-mile long sand spit that also happens to be surrounded by one of the best untouched snorkeling sites in the Pacific.
Aside: Johnston island, or "JI" as it was known, is an atoll, about 700 miles from Hawaii. Johnston Atoll consists of five islands, but only JI and Sand Island, are used. When I was there, the Air Force was tasked with monitoring missiles being launched into the Pacific by the Soviets. The Soviets had a fleet of what they claimed were fishing boats, but the antenna arrays on the ships told a different story.
JI is a small narrow island, less than two miles long and about a quarter of a mile wide, yet it housed the Air Force, an Army detachment running a top secret operation, a small detachment of Marines flying helicopters, supposedly as air rescue and a few Coastguards men operating a navigation aids site on nearby Sand Island.
The whole thing was farcical since all we did was go to work, eat, snorkel and fish, eat, sleep, eat and drink cold beer at the small island club. The Marines were especially bored so they flew their choppers over the Soviet ("fishing") ships, bristling with antennae, and dumped rolls of toilet paper on the ship to create a nuisance, while the ship's crew ran around giving the TPers the finger.
Anyway, I started going to Australia on wine trips in the late 1980s and after a few years and a few trips, I was invited to return as an international wine judge at one of the major state wine shows (show is the name the Aussies use for wine competition).
Wine shows are serious business in Australia. All of the states with a wine industry have a major royal wine show; last time I checked, Victoria state had the largest show in terms of entries. There is also a national show in the nation's capital in Canberra.
And the Australian system provides for training future judges. Interested wine people enter the associate program and judge the wines alongside the regular judges, participate in the discussions at the panel table, but do not get to vote on medals. U.S. wine competitions have nothing similar, but in my opinion, a similar program should be adopted.
I had been judging wine in California, so the judging process wasn't completely new to me. But I wasn't prepared for how different the Australian system was. In California, panels of four or five judges are seated at a table and wines are delivered to each judge, usually in flights of 10 or 12. The number of entries determined the number of panels.
My first wine show in Australia was New South Wales, staged at the 2000 Summer Olympics site outside Sydney. Every morning for a week, we left the quay in a boat cab and sailed out to the site as the sun hung brightly over the Harbour Bridge, known by Sydneysiders as the "Coat Hanger."
Panels are used loosely by the Aussies since each judge samples the wines independently, standing at a waist-high trestle table. The table tops are painted white, with a matrix of three parallel rows of squares running down the length of the table. The glasses of wine are placed in the center row and as the judge works their way through the wines, a glass can be moved up a square to retain the wine for another look, or down a square to reject the wine from further consideration.
The numbers of entries in Australian state shows is daunting, often in the thousands and only Australian wine. Somehow, the judges get through all of the wines, with fewer judges than would be in a U.S. wine competition.
My most challenging time came later in the week when my panel was given 89 Shiraz, most of them from the most recently released vintage. Standing at my tasting table, I stared down the long red line, with a clipboard loaded with scoresheets and a plastic tub with an inch or so of sawdust, on the floor.
As the days slipped by, I learned to handle the daunting number of wines, the speed of Aussie tasters, the majority of whom are winemakers, and how to kick the spit tub around without toppling it onto the floor.
Aside: Spitting is considered a crude habit by many people, but it is an essential tool for the winemaker and wine taster. The sad truth, though, is there are a lot of wine folks who haven't learned how to hit the bucket without spraying wine everywhere.
Wine people, especially those who travel a lot, know of legendary spitters. I may have told about this anecdote before, but it's worth repeating.
| Len Evans |
The Australian wine legend, Len Evans, was one of those wine persons known for the accuracy and distance of his spitted projectile. I was in Evans' office in Sydney when he was asked to show the visiting wine writer his prowess as a spitter. Hanging on the wall opposite his desk was a holy water font (he collected relics from decommissioned churches).
Evans took a generous sip from his glass, swished the wine around in his mouth, faced the font and let loose with a tight glob of wine that arced out, landing perfectly, with not a drop hitting the floor. Not believing what I just saw, Evans' assistant said "Do it again, Len." And he did. That was years ago and I've tried many times to duplicate that feat, and though I became a respectable spitter; I've never matched Len Evans.
Once every judge tastes all of the wines, the panel sits together and discusses each wine, led by the panel chair, usually a senior judge. Those wines awarded a gold medal by the panel majority are presented to the chief judge, who could veto the decision of the panel, although that rarely happened, especially after a spirited discussion and multiple re-tastings.
Discussions weighing the merits or lack of a specific wine, can get heated, with disagreement coming from the differing sensitivities of the judges. Perceptive levels of such things as sulfur, alcohol and yeast spoilage are different for different tasters.
As the international judge, I was expected to know what I was tasting, such as the differences in Shiraz from Barossa, Margaret River, Victoria, Tasmania and Canberra. And I was expected to defend my ratings and opinions. Although I had a good handle on Australian wine, I knew enough to keep my mouth shut when it was obvious to everyone on the panel that this was an American tasting Australian wine in Australia with Aussies and the occasional Kiwi.
It was a priceless experience that I happily repeated at other state shows. Eventually, I felt comfortable tasting through the very broad range of Australian wine and being able to pass that knowledge along to my readers. I had many opportunities to brush up on my spitting skills and at the end of the show, there were only a few red spots on the floor by my tasting table.
Next blog: Wine From a Narrow Country
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
Holy holly! It's that time of year again and we're all trying not to look at the calendar.
It won't work. Christmas will be here in just 15 days.
That means, of course, that along with all the other things on your to-do list, there is that nagging recurring question: Which wine or wines to have with the holiday dinner?
You could take the easy way out and give in to the old adage of "white wine with white meat and red wine with red meat." That's a neat and pain free way to approach the question, but before you surrender, consider these few helpful hints to make your decision easier.
How important is it for you to make the right wine choice? Christmas dinner should be a time of celebration, a time to join with family and friends. Worrying if the wine will be perfect can throw a wet blanket on the celebration.
Will the meal be simple or complex? One size doesn't fit all for many holiday meals. A groaning table laden with two or three meat choices, a variety of side dishes, both sweet and savory and a long list of accompanying condiments, requires more than one type of wine, so everyone can make their own wine choice.
For a simple traditional meal of roast turkey and one or two sides, Pinot Noir or other light reds will be just right. In this space, on December 3, was the suggestion to pass on (for a change) heavier reds like Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah, in favor of lighter-bodied reds from France, Spain, Italy and California. Beaujolais, Spanish clairette, Italian Pinot Noir from Trentino and a California Gamay, might be the wine to go with the holiday bird.
What is the color of the meal you plan to serve? Odd question, I know, but turkey is a two-tone bird with both light and dark meat. Go with a dry white of your choice, like unoaked Chardonnay or a Riesling with a hint of sweetness and a light red or one wine that will handle light and dark meat, such as Pinot Noir.
And, of course, you'll need different wines for red beef (get out your big red) or pink ham (a substantial rose from Spain or Provence).
More important than the color is the preparation. A simple standing rib roast is a good match with Pinot Noir, Cru Classe Beaujolais or a northern Italian Cabernet Franc, while a sturdier Rhone, Zinfandel or California Cabernet Sauvignon is a better choice with a beef roast, seasoned with a special rub.
If you've read this far, you noticed that I am a big fan of Pinot Noir. It's one of the best all-purpose red wines I know and in recent years, winemakers around the world have been making better and better pinots.
Family favorites, especially all those covered dishes brought by quests, are hidden mines waiting to destroy the most astute wine choices. What do you do with Aunt Jane's sweet potato casserole, the one with the marshmallows? Or, Uncle Ned's "famous" spicy three bean dish with a thick topping of pepper jack cheese? Yield to pressure from Uncle Ned and Aunt Jane and offer chilled beer!
Controversy has been swirling for years about whether the holiday dinner is the time to break out your best bottle, or opt for something not as old and not as expensive.
There are too many flavors and textures in a traditional turkey meal with all the trimmings to chance an aged Bordeaux/Cabernet or Rhone/Syrah; save them for a meal centered around red meat like beef or lamb. Instead, go with one of the no-worries wines mentioned above.
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| Vegducken |
Finally, there has been a noticeable rise in interest for meatless meals. Call it vegetarian, plant based, vegan, whatever, the idea is to build a tasty meal around dishes with no meat or fish, and if you're vegan, then no dairy or animal products, like honey. Sounds complicated, but it needn't be.
As for wine choices with a vegetarian holiday meal, the options are about the same. Except seasoning plays a bigger role with meatless dishes, as do the types of grains and nuts and veggies used. The internet is loaded with recipes for tasty meatless dishes that will satisfy everyone at your table. Cheers!
Next blog: My Life in Wine Episode 23
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
Holiday wine buying is coming up fast, so the time is right to think of easy-drinking alternative red wines.
And that would be light
red wines. Consumers gravitate to big reds like
Cabernet and Syrah, while ignoring adaptable and tasty light reds.
At the top of the list of light reds is Gamay (aka Beaujolais) and red wines from southern France and northern Italy and parts of Spain. There is a constantly moving line between a rose and a full-on red wine that keeps shifting, never to be found in the same place twice.
Spain
With Spanish wine, the shifting line is steadier since the Spanish have a category of wine called clarette that is neither pink nor red. And they conveniently, use the term tinto to identify red wines. Even though the pink-red line moves at times, with Spanish wines, at least, you know if the winemaker thinks his wine is a rose or a red wine.
Aside: Label terms relating to the color of a wine can be confusing: clarete, Clairet, claret, Clairette. Clarette is explained above. claret is the English term for Bordeaux red wine. Clairet is a dark pink Bordeaux wine. Clarette is the name for a southern France white grape.
France
The best known example of French light red wines is Beaujolais, available in a range from complex and structured Cru Beaujolais to fresh and fruity Nouveau Beaujolais. Most nouveau is made by carbonic maceration, a technique that converts the sugar in uncrushed grapes without the use of yeasts. In California, the technique is known as whole-berry fermentation.
The levels of Beaujolais, in ascending order of complexity are: Beaujolais Nouveau (or Primeur), Beaujolais, Beaujolais-Villages, Beaujolais Cru. There are ten wines in the Cru (or village) category, with such noted names as Moulin-a-Vent, Morgon and Chenas.
| Gamay Noir au Jus Blanc |
Beaujolais is made from Gamay Noir a Jus Blanc, a red grape with pale or "white" juice. The Gamay of Beaujolais is not the same as Gamay, a red grape with red juice, part of a small group of grapes known as teinturiers.
Nouveau is traditionally released the third Thursday of November, just a few weeks after harvest, and is considered over the hill by the next release.
In export markets, like the United States, grapy Beaujolais is a popular wine, but the French consider the wine a commodity. The reason goes back to the late 1990s and early 2000s, when Beaujolais vintners bought into the international craze for nouveau, a move that almost destroyed Beaujolais.
Beaujolais is located between the Cote de Beaune in Burgundy and the northern Rhone Valley. Although the terroir is different from Burgundy, Beaujolais Cru wines are now made in a more concentrated style, similar to the Pinot Noirs of the Cote de Beaune.
Elsewhere in France, light red wines are made from a range of varieties, with Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre and Merlot the most commonly used in the southern regions of Languedoc-Roussillon and Provence. To keep the wines light and fruity, winemakers use carbonic maceration.
Italy
Light red wines are common in the northern tier regions of Italy, mostly from Trentino Alto Adige, Veneto, Friuli, Emilia Romagna and Lombardy.
The list of popular easy-drinking reds from northern Italy is long. Lombardy alone produces a wide range from Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon, plus Lambrusco, the immensely popular but scorned wine by some, made from the grape of the same name.
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| Lambrusco grape cluster |
Lambrusco has been compared to Beaujolais Nouveau, for its grapy fizzy character, although during the nouveau craze, some Italian wineries released a nouveau-style red.
Besides Lombardy, Emilia Romagna is also home to some Lambrusco, although the central Italian region has been making more complex red wines, without the use of oak, from Pinot Noir and both Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc (known locally as Cabernet).
Tracking the home of a red wine in this part of the country can be difficult, because of the over-lapping from region to region. Oltrepo Pavese is a good example as the extensive area covers multiple DOCs, producing Oltrepo Rosso from Pinot Noir, Barbera and blends.
Most of the red wine from Friuli and Alto Adige is made from such international varieties as Cabernet and Merlot. Rarely seen in U.S. wine shops are unique wines like Lagrein, a red variety indigenous to Alto Adige and Trentino, and the undistinguished Schiava, native mainly to Trentino and Alto Adige...and Japan!
There are occasions when a lighter-bodied red wine is a better choice. The range of light reds is wide and open to experimentation.
Next blog: Which Wine for Christmas?
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
| Cutting the peat |
When I was much younger, my adult beverage of choice was Bourbon. Then, I discovered wine. My wine epiphany probably happened in Germany in the early 1950s, when I accidentally found there was more to drink than beer.
With this new discovery, my interest in Bourbon began to fade as I started to find and taste German and French wine. The unspoken rule, among my new wine friends held that if you were a wine person, you didn't drink any of the hard stuff.
Wine was for savoring and appreciating, they said, while Bourbon whiskey and other spirits were for getting a buzz on. Of course, that may have been true in the '50s, but today, Bourbon is a more interesting and varied tipple.
At the time, I considered myself to be the luckiest man alive. I was stationed in Bavaria, where some of the best beer in the world was brewed. So naturally I continued to enjoy the occasional beer, but exploring German white wine proved to be more interesting.
Eventually, I wondered if I had graduated to wine or was I just fooling myself? The move to wine sounded about right, so Bourbon was set aside.
Then, I discovered single malt Scotch whisky and the whole no spirits thing was resurrected. Back in my Bourbon days, Scotch did not have the same appeal as Bourbon whiskey, but my occasional dram was blended Scotch; single malts were just starting to make a comeback in Scottish distilling.
Sidebar: There is a slight difference in the spelling: The spirit distilled in Scotland and Canada is spelled "whisky," while the United States and Ireland prefer "whiskey."
Single malt whisky is different from blended Scotch, as different as a Bordeaux wine is from Burgundy. Blended Scotch (think Dewars, Johnnie Walker) is a base spirit and a selection of various single malts, blended to create a house style. A single malt is the product of a single distillery and may sometimes be used in a blend.
Blended Scotch has a sameness, while each single malt shows a different personality that come through in its layered flavors. The nuanced differences I found in a Highland single malt compared, for example, to a peaty Islay malt was a revelation.
It was this personality that I found much closer to wine than it was to any other spirit.
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| Swan necks on copper pot stills |
I wanted to know more, like why Lowland single malts are lighter than Highland malts (it has to do with climate and terroir differences), why the source of the water used to ferment the barley is so important (distillers claim the mineral content and whether the water is soft or not, influence the flavor) and why the shape and age of the still defines the character of the whisky (that's a long explanation that is part science and part local whisky lore).
The more I learned about single malt whisky, the more I realized there are numerous parallels between whisky and wine. Here are a few examples:
* Legend and lore play a big role in the story of both wine and whisky. As mentioned above, back in the day, the shape, style and maintenance of the pot stills used to distill single malt whisky was based on lore. Today science explains why the shape of a still is important to the desired character of the spirit. If a copper panel wears thin, because of the continuous high heat in the still and must be replaced, the exact duplicate of the panel, including any dents in the old panel, is hammered into the replacement part.
* Both are made from a single natural crop: barley into whisky; grapes into wine.
* The environment (terroir) where grapes are grown defines the character of the wine. With whisky, the variety of barley and where it is grown, plus the source of the water used in the fermentation of the barley is the "terroir" of whisky making.
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| Classic malting floor |
* Malting is a process where the barley is infused with smoke from a peat fire. The length of time the barley is malted depends on the style preferred by the distillery and the style of the region (i.e., island malts versus Highland malts). In general, Islay single malts are "peatier" than most other malts, but individual distillers may prefer more or less of the smoky character. As a process, malting is similar to the way grapes are processed in preparation for fermentation.
* The use of oak is an integral part of single malts as well as red wine and some white wines. The difference being that single malts are aged mainly in American oak, while red wine may be aged in a variety of oaks, including American. (This "oak rule" is changing as some whisky distilleries are experimenting with French oak.)
* Finally, there is a symbiotic relationship between single malt Scotch and wine. In recent years, single malt distillers began maturing their whiskies in barrels used previously to age wine. The Highland distillery Macallan has for years used ex-Sherry casks to age single malt; the Macallan 12-Year-Old, matured in Sherry wood, is a classic example of this practice.
Other single malt distilleries opted for barrels that previously held Port, Madeira, Sauternes, Bordeaux, Marsala and other oaks. Glenmorangie, a popular Highland malt whisky, offers a line of single malts aged in various ex-wine barrels, plus a selection of other aged single malts.
The trend to find a unique whisky and wine marriage has taken on many variations. The Dalmore Highland "Cigar Malt" starts the wood aging in American oak, then into former oloroso Sherry casks and is finished in Cabernet Sauvignon barrels. Auchentoshan "Three Wood" Lowland malt is aged in a mixture of Bourbon, oloroso Sherry and PX Sherry woods.
This brief essay has just scratched the surface of the pleasures of single malt whisky, Scotland's "wine."
Next blog: Light Reds
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
Shiraz, aka Syrah, is making a comeback and it is about time!
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| Old vine Shiraz |
Syrah, the big red with loads of personality, from the northern Rhone, never attained the popularity of Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Noir. But as Shiraz, the Australian name, Syrah became a favorite of consumers who preferred their red wine big and bold.
According to the latest market trends, Australian Shiraz is making a comeback and the Aussies couldn't be happier. Over the last two years exports have been down, a problem exacerbated by rising prices for Aussie wine, at least in the U.S. Market.
In the American market, thanks, in large part, to a group of California winemakers that created the Rhone Rangers, the popularity of Syrah and other Rhone varieties, took off in the late 1980 and into the '90s.
Wine drinkers were looking for red wine alternatives to Cabernet and Syrah filled the bill and California Pinot Noir had yet to attract a lot of attention. Conveniently, Syrah was midway between Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir: Cabernet strength and structure supporting layers of ripe-berry Pinot fruit.
Australian Shiraz
If you were to fly across Australia, the first thing you would notice is how barren and arid it looks, mile after mile. Unlike the interior of the United States, mostly covered with cities and towns and large green farms, Australia appears from the air to be vacant and uninhabitable.
For that reason, most of Australia's 25 million people live along the coasts. Few of country's wine regions are beyond the reach of coastal influence. Australia is such an ancient worn-down continent that there is little elevation, so growers must reply on the cooling benefits of ocean air to counter the heat. But the marine influence is not as noticeable in Australia as it is in California.
Sidebar: In 1985, a handful of American wine writers was invited by the Australian government to come down under and see what their wineries were doing. I had always wanted to see Australia so this was my chance, even though the trip turned into a forced march: Sydney, Hunter Valley, Perth, Margaret River, Melbourne, Mornington Peninsula, Yarra Valley, Canberra, and Sydney.
We saw a lot of wineries and vineyards, but what we saw most was wine, wine and more wine, everywhere we went. At a Sunday luncheon at one of Sydney's famous harbor side seafood restaurants, there was at least one bottle of wine on every table in the sprawling two-story restaurant.
Easing my lower jaw back into place, I thought, why are we not doing this in America?Shiraz is grown just about everywhere in Australia, save for a wide hot corridor in the north that spans the vast continent. Barossa Valley and McLaren Vale, both in South Australia, are generally considered to be the best examples of "big and bold."
More tempered fruit focused Shiraz comes from the Hunter Valley, New South Wales; Margaret River, Western Australia; Tasmania and in various parts of Victoria, like Heathcote and Yarra Valley.
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| Basket press in Barossa winery |
Australian Shiraz has a reputation for being big and full-blooded, but there are other styles of Aussie Shiraz worth looking at. These are the main regions for Shiraz:
SOUTH AUSTRALIA
Barossa Valley: The Barossa style is full and dark with layers of cherry and raspberry, hints of dark chocolate and mint or eucalypt. Penfolds Grange is the premier Barossa Shiraz, but there are scores of others including St. Hallett, Grant Burge, Yalumba and Peter Lehmann.
Sidebar: People often confuse "mint" and "eucalyptus" when smelling and tasting certain red wines. The two are not related but their aromatics bear some similarities. Tasters describe eucalyptus as "minty and faintly medicinal," while mint is a clean clearly defined component. The mint-to-eucalpytus spectrum includes peppermint, spearmint, basil, menthol and eucalptyus.
Eden Valley: Near the Barossa but at a higher elevation, Eden Valley Shiraz shows more plum and black cherry, than black pepper. Henschke's Hill of Grace ranks second only to the Grange. There's also Heggies and Pewsey Vale.
McLaren
Vale: The McLaren Vale style is lighter and smoother, with a rich
velvety texture and a focus on fruit and good acidity.
VICTORIA
Yarra Valley: Not far from Melbourne, this cool verdant valley is known more for white wines than big reds. Yarra Shiraz is deeply colored, with hints of spice and pepper and cherry. Look for De Bortoli and Yarra Yering.
BENDIGO
Heathcote: This is big mint country and Shiraz shows it in spades, whether its peppermint or eucalyptus. Heathcote Shiraz has strength and longevity. Notable are Balgownie and Jasper Hill.
NEW SOUTH WALES
Lower Hunter Valley: Hunter Shiraz is legendary in Australia, even thought it has been eclipsed by the Barossa in recent years. Hunter Shiraz are angular when young, but become smooth and supple with bottle age. Look for Rothbury Estate, Brokenwood, Mount Pleasant.
WESTERN AUSTRALIA
Margaret River: Wild and beautiful, Margaret River is Cabernet country, but there are parts of the scenic country making distinctive Shiraz, such as great Southern (Plantagenet) and Geographe (Capel Vale).
Of course, there are other areas in Australia were Shiraz stands out. Join the crowd and re-discover, or discover for the first time the pleasures of Australian Shiraz.
Next blog: My Life in Scottish "Wine" Episode 22
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
One of the unfortunate things, for the wine consumer, is as wine popularity grows, so too does demand and price for coveted wines. And no where is this more noticeable than in Burgundy.
White Burgundy, made from Chardonnay (and if you go back far enough a little Aligote), has always been a popular white wine, but that fame took on a new dimension in the 1990s, when Chardonnay surged ahead to become the most popular white wine in history.
Upstart Chardonnays from new world regions like California were stylistically different from French Burgundy and they were less expensive. The standout feature in California Chardonnay was the use of oak. For Burgundies like Le Corton or Beaune Greves, the oak was an integrated component; there but not too noticeable. For California Chardonnay, a list with too many brands to mention, the oak presence was often ripe and pungent; more in your face than subtle.
Burgundians continued to use oak with an even hand, but It would be years before California dialed back the use of oak; a handful of wineries went so far as to release no-oak Chardonnays.
What to do, then, if you wanted reasonably priced Chardonnay with a level of oak that didn't mask the bright mineral character of the wine? Head south of Beaune to the regions of Maconnais and the Cote Chalonnais, known primarily for producing moderately-priced Chardonnay, that has some of the same character as its more expensive neighbors to the north.
For help in sorting through the complexities of Burgundy wine, consult the official classification. Not as well known as the Bordeaux Classification of Medoc and Grave of 1855, the Burgundy system rates top white and red Burgundy, listed as Grand Cru (Great Growths) and Premier Cru (First Growths).
Sidebar: Following the evaluation of the terroir of each estate vineyard, plus wine making philosophy and how conscientious estate owners were of the operation and maintenance of their property, there was the politics, in determining what place on the hierarchy the property would rest.
Every decade or so, a small group, usually of dissatisfied estate owners (Burgundy uses the term "estate," the equivalent of "chateau" in Bordeaux) would lobby to have the official classification changed, with hopefully the elevation of their property. Few challenges succeeded, although Baron Rothschild's tireless efforts in 1973 resulted in the elevation of his Ch. Mouton-Rothschild from a Second Growth to a First Growth, in the 1855 Classification.
While not a gauge of wine quality, the classification is an account of history and performance of those estates that have maintained a consistent high level of quality.
Cote Chalonnais
A "cote," in French, is a slope or a hill and that aptly describes the lay of the land throughout the Chalonnais, although the slope is not continuous as it is to the north in the Cote d'Or. Still, the limestone-based soils are similar and it is this sameness that lifts Chalonnais Chardonnay closer to those of the Cote de Beaune.
There are five village appellations that usually stand on their own: Only Montagny produces solely white wine; Rully makes both white and red wine, plus small quantities of sparkling wine in the style of Champagne; Mercurey, arguably the best of the Chalonnais, and Givry are both known mainly for red wine, but also produce whites from Chardonnay; finally there is Bouzeron, a small area known for white wine made from Aligote, not often seen in the United States.
There are no Grand Cru vineyards in the Chalonnais, but a range of Premier Crus including in Mercurey, Rully and Montagny.
A small quantity of Pinot Noir is grown in the Chalonnais. A Mercurey rouge, made from Pinot Noir is sometimes mistaken for a more famous Cote d'Or red.
Maconnais
There was a time when Americans went nuts for Macon Chardonnay, a wine with Burgundy character but at half the price. Then, the cost of a decent Macon rose to a level where consumers opted instead for California Chardonnay at half the price.
Large quantities of Chardonnay are bottled as Macon or Macon-Villages. A few of these better known villages make white wine under their own names, like Pouilly-Fuisse and St. Veran.
Pouilly-Fuisse, sometimes referred to as the "poor man's Cote de Beaune," is the richest and fullest Maconnais white, often commanding high prices.
St. Veran gained its appellation in 1971 and picked up vineyards that were previously Beaujolais Blanc. St. Veran Chardonnays are stylistically bigger and richer than Macon-Village, often representing good value.
The output of the Maconnais is approximately three to four times that of the Cote Chalonnais. There are no Grand Cru vineyards in the Maconnais.
Small quantities of red Macon are made from the Gamay grape, drawing comparisons with nearby Beaujolais. Bottled as Macon or Macon-Villages, the reds are scarce in U.S. markets.
Next blog: Rise of Shiraz
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
Correction: In "My Life in Wine Episode 21," the date of the Loma Prieta Earthquake was incorrect. It should have been 1989 not 1979.
After the Wine Spectator, my life in wine alternated between free lancing, an editorial run with a small struggling Australian-owned wine magazine and then back to free lance, including a long and satisfying time as a columnist with Wine Review Online.
This is not, thankfully, another story about Covid. Rather, this is my attempt to connect this MLIW episode with one of the unforeseen side issues of the pandemic lock downs. Namely, how thousands of people found themselves coping with the oddities of working at home and how that relates to wine writing.
There are a few dozen full time wine writers who work at a magazine or newspaper. But the majority of wine writers do their thing from an alcove or special area in their home, or if they're lucky (as am I) from a home office.
For the free lancer being able to work at home means no commute, no need to shave and you can pound your computer keyboard in your PJs or even your underwear; really, who's going to see you?
If that sounds like an ideal work environment, it isn't, unless you're disciplined and can keep to a set routine and not be distracted. Unfortunately, that didn't always work for me. in 1979.
In 1979, I was just finishing writing an opus on California Chardonnay when the San Francisco earthquake struck and everything in my office began to jump and shake. It was like a giant had our townhouse in its grip and was giving the building a good shake.
Books fell off the shelves over my desk and wines rattled out of a wine rack. It was temporary chaos, with bottles crashing to the floor on top of a mound of books. Miraculously, only two bottles broke and, of course, one of them was an expensive white Burgundy.
The free lance environment can be as quiet as a monastery cell or as noisy as an earthquake environment. Some writers need the quiet, while others, like myself, think and write better with a little music in the background. Classical music stimulates my thinking and concentration, except for those times when it's disrupted by a daily outside distraction.
My office in the townhouse faced a tiny fenced entry courtyard. Our mail carrier, a man who was passed his time to retire, worked hard at finding ways not to exert himself, like getting you to help with his mail delivery.
One day, while typing a wine note, I heard Don coming up our short walk. "Hey, Jer!" he yelled until I came to the front gate and took the mail. If I wasn't home or didn't come outside, Don would leave the mail on top of the gate, annoying to say the least since our mail box was just inside the gate.
On one occasion, the antics of Don the Mailman broke my chain of thought about a visit to Bordeaux where the winemaker demonstrated an innovative way to get wine from a barrel. The trick involved a special hammer with a long pointed sharp prong where the claw would be on a standard hammer.
Using the pointed end of his tool, the winemaker swung hard whacking the head of the barrel, opening a small hole. Fortunately, the barrel was tightly bunged creating enough internal pressure, so the wine didn't leak out.
Then, he hooked the pointed end of the hammer behind the head brace and pulled down on the handle. The light pressure against the head caused a narrow stream of bright red wine to spurt out of the barrel into a waiting wine glass. After dispensing wine into four glasses, the winemaker inserted a small wooden plug into the hole and hammered it home.
It was all a bit of winery theater, performed by a French winemaker and his Portuguese assistant, for the amused visiting wine writer and his wife
Of course, you don't need to travel to Bordeaux or any other world wine region to sample the wine, but you'll understand and appreciate wine a lot more if you go to where it is made. In the next few episodes, I do a bit of traveling, starting in Scotland where a spirit is distilled that comes as close to wine, for style and variety, as anything I've tasted.
Next blog: South of the Cote de Beaune
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
Tracing the history of modern wine making in the United States is difficult, mostly because the definition of what is meant by "modern" is unclear.
Some observers claim that the modern era of U.S. wine making began in California in the 1970s, following the so-called wine boom. They will tell you that wine stumbled along in the American consciousness until "The Judgement of Paris," a 1976 taste off of French and California wines, staged by an English wine merchant.
But setting the date a mere 50 years ago ignores the planting of grapes by Franciscan padres at the first California mission in 1769. And it would be minimizing the efforts by European immigrants to grow grapes and make wine in New York, Missouri, Ohio and other eastern locations early in the 20th century.
Of course, history and circumstances meant that the compass arrow would eventually point to Northern California and especially the verdant valleys of Napa and Sonoma. Italian and German immigrants had already plowed the vineyards and built the wineries with venerable names like Sebastiani, Beaulieu Vineyard, Pedroncelli, Inglenook and Beringer. These became established wineries making solid wines, that formed the basis for the flood of wine to come.
Post WWII wines from Napa and Sonoma may not be recognizable to today's wine consumer. Red wine, mostly blends, dominated then and what little white wine there was likely didn't come from Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc. Grape and wine names like Alicante, Golden Chasselas, Carignane (Carignan), Charbono, Emerald Riesling and Flame Tokay, were common then and it would be years before varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay would be on the tables of wine drinkers.
As technology changed the way grapes were grown and wine was made, it was only natural that the character of wine was approaching a turning point. When wine began to change is hard to say. But I noticed a sameness creeping in during judging some wine types at wine competitions, as early as the mid-1980s.
Wine competitions generally group wines by varietal types and sometimes by price and vintage. At large wine competitions this might mean that any group could have hundreds of wines, all from the same vintage or price range.
However, while the industry was preaching dry, especially for white wines, increasingly what I was tasting was off dry. This was especially noticeable with Chardonnay that seemed to be getting sweeter with each new vintage.
Then, there was the touting of terrior, a French term that encompasses the entirety of a vineyard environment. Problem is, the very terroir signs that are supposed to distinguish a vineyard or region, making it different from other sites, were being erased from the wine by wine making.
Escalating alcohol levels was another sign that the character (and maybe the soul) of wine was changing. As recently as the 1970s, the majority of red wines were finished at 12.5% alcohol by volume, or the number claimed on the label.
Sidebar: In the United States, "table wine" must by law be between 7% and 14%, with a 1.5% fudge either way. Thus, a stated alcohol of 12.5%, may legally be 11% or as high as 14%. A wine between 14% and 24% qualifies as a "dessert wine."
Also, there is something called the "International Palate," a profile of character and flavor, to which all wines for sale in the international market, supposedly conform. This "homogenizing" of wine is most often seen in lower-priced "commodity" wine. However, I waffle a little on this because the sameness is not present in all wines or markets.
Finally, wineries change wine makers and the grapes change from vintage to vintage, possibly altering the "house style." Then, some wineries want to make the best wine possible and not stick to a house style.
The list of factors changing the character of wine is unlimited. Any changes I've noticed have been slow and subtle. If you only buy a bottle of wine now and then, you're not likely to see the changes that have occurred over the years.
So, enjoy each wine but be conscious that change is happening.
Next blog: My Life in Wine Episode 21
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
It could be said that Oregon's reputation for world-beating Pinot Noir owes its success to the dissatisfaction of a small group of California wine makers.
Let me explain. A few pinot missionaries, led by David Lett, decided that the Golden State was not suitable for their grape, so they headed north. By the 1960s, "Papa Pinot," as Lett would become known, planted pinot vines near Dundee and opened the Eyrie Vineyard. Dick Erath, Erath Vineyards (formerly Knudsen-Erath) led the next wave, mostly from California, settling in the Willamette Valley.
The background to this vinous diaspora is that grape specialists at California's UC-Davis told Lett that Pinot Noir, or for that matter any Vitis vinifera grape, would not survive in Willamette's cool climate. Lett and his colleagues persisted, proving that the experts are not always right.
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| Autumn in the Willamette Valley |
Today, the Willamette Valley is the epicenter of arguably America's best Pinot Noir. The valley boasts more than 200 wineries, most of which make Pinot Noir and is host to the annual International Pinot Noir Celebration, that attracts a sizeable contingent of Burgundian vintners, from the birthplace of classic Pinot Noir.
Anecdote. There is another story about Burgundians anointing the Willamette Valley (not California) as a place, outside of Burgundy, worthy of growing great Pinot Noir. In 1979, the French staged a comparative tasting between French wines and their North American counterparts. The 1975 Eyrie Vineyard Pinot Noir placed second, besting some of Burgundy's finest pinots.
Robert Drouhin, head of the Burgundy wine company, Joseph Drouhin, did not agree with the results, so he held a re-match. The results were the same. Drouhin decided that Oregon Pinot Noir was worth a look, so he went to the Willamette Valley with his daughter Veronique and in 1987, Drouhin bought vineyard acreage, built a winery, with Veronique as winemaker.
The most important thing to be said about Oregon Pinot Noir is that it is not Burgundy. The grape may be the same, though some will argue that variations in terroir and other factors, illustrate the differences between the two wines. The flavors of Pinot Noir are elusive but at its base Oregon Pinot Noir has a deep berry richness with subtle earthy notes and above all, a complexity that varies with the local area and terroir.
Beyond the Willamette
When Oregon wine first became known, spurred mostly by Pinot Noir, critics sniffed that Oregon was a one-trick pony. Fact is, in 1961 Richard Sommer, a California transplant, planted Pinot Noir at Hillcrest Vineyard in the Umpqua Valley, in what today is considered (at least in wine terms) southern Oregon.
The two million acre vineyard region runs just south of Roseburg to the California border and includes a number of AVAs (American Viticultural Area), ranging from the small Applegate Valley AVA, part of the larger Rogue Valley AVA, to the large encompassing Southern Oregon AVA.
| Autumn in a Rogue River Valley Vineyard |
Umpqua Valley and Rogue Valley are the best known and have the most wineries. The other AVAs are Redhill-Douglas, Snake River Valley and Columbia Gorge. Two regions, Walla Walla and Columbia Gorge are technically a two-state AVAs, with vineyards in both Oregon and Washington.
Southern Oregon is warmer than the Willamette Valley, making it a good spot for Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Syrah, Grenache and Tempranillo. Still many of the vineyard sites in Southern Oregon are cooler than northern California, and reds like Cabernet are leaner and with more earthy notes.
Oregonians are proud of their wine and they want consumers to know that there is a vibrant wine industry operating from just over the border from California to just south of Portland.
Next blog: Wine's Turning Point
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
My association with the San Francisco Chronicle lasted 12 years, the first four as a contributing wine writer and then eight years as staff wine writer. Those last eight years were productive, covering the wine scene, starting a wine tasting panel and recognizing excellence in wine making with the Winemaker of the Year. In 2018, Janet and I moved to Santa Rosa and I moved into the next stage of my wine writing career.
Free lance writing about wine and spirits, mainly single malt whisky which I had developed a fondness for, kept me busy during the transition after the Chronicle.
Building a free-lance business demands a high level of self discipline and sacrifice. While it sounds noble, anyone who has decided to go it alone knows what I mean. To be successful, a free-lancer must establish a regular schedule and stick to it. No slacking off to watch television or putter in the garden.
Things moved slowly at first because, as a free lancer, you are competing for assignments with other writers and it takes time to build associations with editors. For me, getting back in the game was going slower than I expected, so the lure of another editorial position was tempting.
Although my re-entry as a free-lance writer was moving along, my experience as a former editor became of value and the fact that I was no longer with the Spectator held some interest in a narrow field that was constantly looking for that rare writer/editor with wine knowledge.
So it wasn't long before I got a call from the Wine Enthusiast, the main competitor of the Wine Spectator. Would I be interested to meet the owner about an open editorial position? The offer was tempting, but it meant a return to the pressures of managing a magazine and I was just beginning to relax.
It is an on-going surprise to me how the word circulates, even in a small field like wine writing, that there has been staff changes at a magazine or newspaper. Then I got a call from Peter Simic, owner and publisher of Wine & Spirits Buying Guide, a low-circulation wine magazine intent on raising its value and image in the U.S. market. WSBG was not even on my radar but Simic was looking for someone to edit the magazine while helping him to develop a better understanding of the American wine market and he heard about my change of employment.
He was persuasive, so I signed on with the understanding that my stint would be 12 months and no longer. Peter Simic and I hit it off and we are still friends, but the magazine was struggling and having financial trouble, so Simic sold out and moved back to Australia, where he owns a very successful wine magazine.
After the ownership change, I decided to return, again, to life as a free lance writer. Assignments began to pick up from diverse publications like Advertising Age, Restaurant Hospitality, Robb Report, Decanter, Peter Simic's Winestate Australia, and others.
Then, another offer came out of the blue. Robert Whitley, a writer in California who I knew only by name, emailed me to ask if I would like to be a contributor to a new online site he was starting called "Wine Review Online." I had been avoiding writing for the internet, but Whitley's invitation would open a new area of writing for me, so I started writing a monthly column on any aspect of wine I wanted to write about.
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| Robert Whitley 1950 - 2021 |
An unexpected bonus of being a WRO contributor was an invitation to be a wine judge at Whitley's "Critics Challenge" wine competition. It was an opportunity to join some of my WRO colleagues, like Mary Mulligan MW, Michael Franz, and Paul Lukacs, as well as taste a variety of wines that I might not see otherwise. Robert Whitley passed away in February 2021, followed in June by WRO contributor and Critics Challenge judge, Paul Lukacs.
Living in the beautiful Sonoma Valley was a respite from the hustle of the Bay Area. My association with Wine Review On line continued and I began a busy time of travel to many of the world's wine regions. Then, fully adjusted to life in wine country, my life in wine took on two new adventures.
Next blog: The Red Side of Oregon Wine
Contact me at boydvino707@gmail.com
