A Hearty Burgundy and a Healthy Buzz…

Like so many children of the 70s, my first memory of Gallo wines is Orson Welles, posed in his armchair with wineglass in hand, declaring that the company would sell no wine before its time. My second Gallo memory is probably no more unusual. It was my senior year in high school, and my friend Robert and I (well, it was Crazy Bob at the time, but now it’s Robert), already well lubricated, left a party on Willow Oak to buy some more beer at 7-11. We walked down the hill and crossed Franklin Road and the first thing we saw when we entered the store was a freestanding display of Hearty Burgundy in gallon jugs. The jugs were $1.99, and, although I don’t recall whether that was a special or the everyday price, I do remember Robert and I looking at each other and laughing.

We probably made three trips to the 7-11 that night, drank as many gallons of wine, and earned ourselves the nicknames Ernest and Julio for the rest of the summer. I don’t recall which of us was which, and I don’t remember much about the wine except the monumental hangover the next morning. But, if pressed, I’d say it was fruity and kind of sweet and a bit spicier than I’d expected. And that’s what I knew of E. & J. Gallo…until last week.

A friend (a different Bob) had a bottle of wine open when I dropped by his house in Santa Monica late the other afternoon. He offered me a glass and, after I had enjoyed a few sips, showed me the bottle: 1996 Gallo Winery Estate Cabernet Sauvignon. It was a classic California Cabernet, dried fruit and ripe grape well-balanced with oak and sporting a healthy finish. My friend didn’t put me on the spot, but if he had, I might have guessed it was a Mondavi or Stags Leap Cabernet.

Although I expect that the Hearty Burgundy will always hold the fore in my mind, that one glass changed the way I now think about the world’s largest winery. Thanks, Bob.

Sidling up to Chardonnay….

Miles: “I like all varietals. I just don’t generally like the way they manipulate chardonnay in California. Too much oak and secondary malolactic fermentation.”
Jack: “Huh.”

– Sideways

It’s funny because it’s true, as one of the great minds of our generation once opined. The oak-and-butter chardonnay that has become such a popular California wine doesn’t hold much appeal for me, either. But there are quite a few impressive domestic chardonnays available right now, and, since the varietal has largely fallen out of favor with the wine cognoscenti (I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard “Could I get some Viogner instead?” or “Make mine a Gruner Vetliner!”), the prices are very reasonable and, in some cases, downright bargains.

That is not to say that certain chardonnays do not command a healthy price. Bottles by Marcassin, Aubert, Peter Michael, Rhys, Kistler and a handful of other winemakers can run well over a hundred dollars or even two hundred, assuming you can find the particular vintage you’re looking for in the first place, and some have reached cult wine status. All of these are excellent wines and most worth the price, at least relative to the cost of French and German whites of comparable quality, so I do not intend to denigrate them based on cost (in fact, I would recommend splurging on a Marcassin or Kistler, particularly the Cuvee Cathleen or the Vine Hill Road Vineyard, should budget and occasion permit), but they are not in the pricing bracket of wines that I want to discuss today.

The two wines I would like to recommend, the first from California and the second from Oregon, are:

2003 Newton Unfiltered Chardonnay, Napa Valley, and

2002 St. Innocent Dijon Clone Chardonnay, Anden, Willamette Valley

The Newton is a golden-green wine that, despite my earlier dismissal of oak-and-butter, shows oak-and-butter but with just the right balance of acidity. In winetasting jargon, I would try to describe it as butterscotch and marmalade with tropical fruits such as lychee and pineapple. The key to this wine, though, is its exquisite balance, long finish, and, given its big nose, surprising complexity. I am going to avoid numerical ratings and, instead, simply suggest that this wine is an exemplary chardonnay at any price. And, as it turns out, the price here attractive…the wine retails for $40-45 but can frequently be found on sale at or around the $25 mark. In my opinion, it is of a quality comparable to many $100+ white wines.

The 2002 St. Innocent is a bit harder to find than the Newton but worth the effort, in my opinion, and I’ve seen it for as little as $25 from time to time. With both of these wines (and most others, to be honest), the website WineSearcher is your friend…but that is a service I’ll review (and endorse) separately, after I get around to setting up a wine gizmo section (and, even then, I probably owe the first review to college class- and house-mate Eric Levine’s excellent CellarTracker site).
Back to the St. Innocent…where the Newton has a greenish tinge and tropical leanings (again, in winetasterparlance), this wine is straw and gold and layered with honey, spice, toast and dirt. It has an almost rummy sense to it, a medium body, balanced structure and strong focus. Again, the oak is noticeable but kept in check by the other elements at play, another finely crafted wine.

One other winemaker I’d like to mention is Hanzell. Their Sonoma County chardonnays are among my favorites, running very tight and intense with plenty of acid. Unusually, if not uniquely, they seem designed to age…while the 1999 is among my favorite vintages, I still have some bottles of 1990, almost twenty years old now, that drink very well. Depending on the vintage, Hanzell chardonnay will run from $45-65 a bottle. If you have a cellar and are looking for a white that will develop quite a bit of character and gain a degree of depth and mineral unusual in American chardonnay, then I would strongly recommend finding at least a couple of bottles of Hanzell.

Finally, speaking of cellars, I thought it might be useful to disclose what I am keeping in my own. Advice is easy to give and hard to follow, and, certainly, I do not always practice what I preach. So I’ve decided, with each style or varietal I recommend, to also list what I personally own. In some cases, my budget or access may differ (in either direction) from those seeking wine recommendations, so I wouldn’t put too much weight on this, but I thought it might be interesting. As it turns out, my cellar contains a relatively small amount of chardonnay, 60 bottles in total, primarily 750ml (standard size) with a handful of magnums and double-magnums, and almost exactly half from California and Oregon and half from Burgundy. The American wines I have are:

 

1990 Hanzell Chardonnay
1995 Neyers Chardonnay Thieriot Vineyard Sonoma Coast
1998 Hanzell Chardonnay
1999 Stony Hill Chardonnay
2000 S. Anderson Chardonnay
2000 Testarossa Chardonnay Michaud Vineyard
2001 Leeuwin Chardonnay Artist Series
2001 Sine Qua Non Chardonnay Mr. K The Noble Man
2002 Peters Family Winery Chardonnay Sangiacomo Vineyard
2003 Newton Chardonnay Unfiltered
2003 Justin Vineyard Chardonnay Reserve
2003 Tablas Creek Chardonnay Antithesis
2004 Foley Estates Chardonnay
2004 Jack Creek Cellars Chardonnay York Mountain
2004 Peay Estate Chardonnay
2005 Justin Vineyard Chardonnay

Cary Grant rolls up his cuffs and manhandles the smoker….

Earlier this month, my friend and college roommate George and his lovely wife, Lizzie, hosted MeatFest 2006 at their house in San Francisco. True to its name, the weekend was a carnivore’s delight, replete with home-made (seasoned, ground and stuffed) pork-and-veal sausages (both bratwurst and kielbasa, and, to be honest, more than could possibly be consumed), an enormous Wagyu (effectively, domestic Kobe) beef brisket that was cooked on the smoker for something on the order of 16 hours before being served, moose steaks (shot, dressed, butchered, and flown in by a friend in Alaska), barbequed beef and pork ribs, smoked salmon and the usual assortment of Lobel’s and other steaks and sundry cuts of flesh, including the perennial favorite, the Lobel’s triple-something-or-other that runs a couple of hundred dollars for the one steak and is truly, consistently, MeatFest after MeatFest the tastiest meat I have ever eaten.

 

Anyway, while George (who, and, much to my shame, I have noticed only recently, bears an uncanny resemblance to Cary Grant) and company provided wondrous and wonderful meats ad nauseam, the germane point of the weekend as far as WineTank is concerned is a small pinot-syrah blend from the Santa Ynez Valley: 2001 Lafond Northside. At $14/bottle retail (and I was able to find it in a Santa Barbara wine shop for $9 and change), it is a great crowd-pleaser and stood up particularly well to the grilled and smoked meats. In fact, it was such a favorite of another college classmate (who shall remain nameless, under the condition that, the next time he disaster-profiteers and purchases entire wine cellars, he calls me!) that I had trouble prying the bottle from his hands long enough to draw myself a pour so that I might taste and hereby recommend it.

 

 

 

And, in the sober light of day, the Lafond Northside is a nice wine for the price. Despite practically the entire length of this post, it is not my top recommendation for the top value wine (or, as the online community is fond of characterizing, QPR…quality-to-price-ratio), but it did get me to thinking, in this time of $3,000 per bottle futures prices for the as-yet-unreleased Petrus, about everyday drinking wines. As it is late, even with Daylight Saving Time, I will post my recommendations tomorrow. But, rest assured, they will all be under $3,000/bottle. In fact, they will all be under $30/bottle.

 

“Primarily I’m a meat man, although once in a while I toy with a few vegetables.” – Nat King Cole

Men of a Certain Age

For those of us conceived during the Summer of Love and born in 1969, it can be a frustrating experience to find top-quality wines from our birth year. For the most part, the red Bordeaux of that vintage were never that great and lost what they did have to offer long ago, the dry white Bordeaux are equally disappointing (though the Sauternes are at least mixed), and the wines of Alsace and Germany were mediocre, at best. Neither Tuscany nor Piedmont had notable growing seasons, and the same is true for Spain (excluding Vega Sicilia, based on just two samplings) and Portugal, where it was a downright miserable year for port. The champagne is of decent character, but pales by comparison to the strong 1970 and elegant 1971 vintages. And, while California had a pretty good year in Cabernet, most of those wines had low productions and have passed their prime by now, anyway (although I confess to having at least mildly high hopes for a bottle of Mondavi Reserve that I’ve tucked away for my birthday next June).

In terms of quality, one saving grace is that the 1969 wines of the Rhone and even more so Burgundy were wonderful. The Burgundies, which tend to age in a graceful (and often even more surprising) manner, are quite costly these days, however, and might not be a realistic option for many. Similarly, from the few bottles I have tried, the wines of Austria must have been wonderful, but only a few Rieslings and sweet wines are still holding strong today, and those can be difficult to locate.

And, so, a quick world tour leaves us few promising options.

That is, until this year’s release of the 1969 D’Oliveira Sercial…which has an interesting story. In 2002, after the death of Vasco Loja (who ran the venerable Adegas Torreao), the company’s cellar was won at auction by the D’Oliveira family. Among the barrel wines was a 1969 Sercial that, at least as far as I have read, was never released commercially. The new owners have now bottled and are releasing this Madeira after almost 40 years in the barrel…and in the US market, to boot. At a release price of $89.95, I couldn’t pass this up and think it would make a very special bottle for anyone with a particular interest in the vintage. Thanks to an early notice from Roy Hersh (of For the Love of Port) I was able to pre-order the Madeira from the Rare Wine Company, though it may be available through other channels, as well.

A note regarding an entirely different age (do you need a gift for someone turning 80 in 2008?) or just for serious Madeira fans: As part of the same arrangement, the D’Oliveira family has bottled wine from barrels of 1927 Bastardo. Although Madeira lovers will likely need no introduction, it is hard to express how rare an opportunity this is. The Bastardo grape was, for all practical purposes, wiped out by the Phylloxera outbreak in Europe; but, even before, it was an obscure grape and rarely bottled on its own. The 1927 is one of the only vintages from the old, pre-outbreak vines, at least since the 19th century. I do not recall the release price offhand (it may be around the $300/bottle mark), but, for the serious enthusiast, this could present a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“Claret is the liquor for boys; port for men; but he who aspires to be a hero must drink brandy.” – Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)

The Warm Confusion

Ever since the weather started to turn towards fall, even here in Southern California, a number of people have asked me for advice on purchasing wines. It’s not clear whether to attribute this to the seasonal maladies brought on by the Santa Ana winds or the warm confusion of alcohol that generally fueled the solicitations, but who am I to pass up the opportunity to blather on as if I were some sort of expert?

So, here I’ll deposit my thoughts and blatherings on the subject, for what they’re worth, and try to provide some advice about those wines and spirits that haunt me and, on occasion, pilfer my savings before laying themselves to rest in my cellar.

“For when the wine is in, the wit is out.” – Thomas Becon (1512-1567)