Sicily Tasting, February 2012

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Sicily

Sicily

As I mentioned in a recent post, I had the pleasure of attending a tasting of Wines of Sicily.  Wine production has a long history in Sicily, at least as far back as the 8th century BC, when Greeks colonized the island.  In more recent times, Sicily’s best known beverage has been Marsala, a fortified wine named for a city in the northwest of the island.  However, Sicily today produces a wide range of white, red and sparkling wine, as well as a variety of dessert wines and grappas.  The tasting consisted of three flights of four wines each, themed as whites, reds and dessert wines.  Here is the listing of the wines poured (with photos here):

  • Whites
    1. Sicilia IGP Cavallino Bianco Carlo Pellegrino 2010
    2. Sicilia IGT Inzolia Barbazzalle Bianco Cottanera 2009
    3. Sicilia IGT Carolina Morengo Feudi del Pisciotto 2007
    4. Etna DOC Pietramarina Bianco Superiore Benati 2007
  • Reds
    1. Cerasuolo di Vittoria DOCG COS 2009
    2. Etna DOC Serra della Contessa Benati 2006
    3. Contea di Sclafani DOC Rosso del Conte Tasca D’Almerita 2004
    4. Sicilia IGT Duca Enrico Duca di Salaparuta 1996
  • Dessert
    1. Passito di Pantelleria DOC Coste di Mueggen Benati 2005
    2. Malvasia di Salina DOC Capofaro Tasca d’Almerita 2007
    3. Marsala Superiore Secco Vito Curatolo Arini
    4. Marsala Vergine Riserva Vito Curatolo Arini

The hierarchy of quality/restrictiveness of classifications in this listing is Indicazione Geografica Tipica (IGT) / Indicazione Geografica Protetta (IGP) with the grapes being from a particular region (I’m pretty sure they’re the same, with IGP more typically used for non-wine products such as cheese), Denominazione di Origine Controllata (DOC) being a more restrictive set of rules for a particular region with a higher expectation of quality, and Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita (DOCG) being the highest quality with the most stringent restrictions on production.  Sicily has a single DOCG (Cerasuolo) and 23 DOCs (including one covering the island as a whole).  Theoretically anyone on Sicily could produce Sicilia DOC wine, but the restrictions on yields and therefore on revenue make it a tradeoff relative to the higher premium producers might expect over just labeling their wines IGT/IGP.  DOC wines account for just a very small percentage of total wine production, with most of it being for dessert wines.

Sicily is a warm place, closer as a whole to North Africa than to Rome.  It has a number of factors that make it well suited to growing grapes.  The terrain itself is very hilly, allowing the planting of vineyards to optimally take advantage of the sunlight, warmth, and altitude. Also, being an island, the sea is never far, and the cooling influences of the breezes provide desirable diurnal temperature variation.  The soils of Sicily are generally described as poor, which combined with a low amount of rainfall, make for the challenging conditions under which vines can be expected to yield some of their best fruit.  The geography of the island is dominated by volcanoes, from the still active Mount Etna in the east to the now rolling hills in the west of long dormant siblings.

The traditional wine of Sicily is Marsala, a fortified wine in the tradition of Port and Sherry, with a similar history of being initially created from a local wine with spirit added to aid in transport by boat to England.  While at one time it was a hugely popular export, it has fallen to niche status and is most commonly found outside of Italy used in cooking.  Wine production in Sicily has undergone great changes over the past two decades and is in the midst of further still.  There has been a significant shift from gobelet and bush vines to wire training, which has allowed the introduction of mechanization and a lower cost structure.  Outside consultants have been used to good effect, and quality levels have risen considerably.

In addition, the use of indigenous Sicilian grapes has become a great selling point.  While international varieties have made some headway into Sicily, the climate is not nearly as well suited as it is for native varieties, which have become increasingly well known.  The most widely planted, the white grape Catarrato, is largely used to make grape extract, but others such as Inzolia and Grillo have been recently made into modern styled white wine.  Grecanico is another white grape grown locally, though it may in fact be Garganega by another name, so not strictly indigenous.

The best known of these trendy Sicilian grapes is Nero d’Avola. While it accounts for only 13% of total vineyards, it can produce high quality varietal wines with great barrel maturation and ageing potential, and can bring body, colour and longevity to a blend.  Such is its popularity that New World producers in California and Australia are cultivating it in warm climates.  Perricone, Nerello (Mascalese and Mantellato) and Frappato are also important local red grapes, though more typically found as components of a blend.

While this only scratches the surface of Sicily, I’ll go into more detail with some of the grapes and regions as I profile a few of the wines and producers from the tasting over the coming weeks.

 

Scott Winemaking Fiano 2011

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Scott Fiano 2011

Scott Fiano 2011

After a big Italian Sicilian* tasting, I’m back to Australia, but with an Italian varietal.  It’s the Scott Fiano 2011 of the Adelaide Hills.  This is very much a small world experience for me, in that this wine was brought to a party at our house this past weekend and while it sounded familiar, I didn’t really know the producer.  It turns out the Scott winery and cellar door are right around the corner from the winery in which I’ve worked a few vintages.  I will have to swing by next time I’m up that way.

I’ve featured wines from the Adelaide Hills three times – a Pinot Noir, a Chardonnay, and a Pinot Noir / Chardonnay sparkler.  While the region as a whole is considered cool and elevated by Australian standards, it’s not quite the Mosel, and people have been having success with many, many different varietals.  Pinot Grigio is especially popular there at the moment, with Scott in particular doing a sparkler, while others make both normal and late harvest versions of it in it’s less bubbly form.  Sauvignon Blanc has long been a favourite from the region, but if you turn over a few rocks, you can find producers making Dolcetto, Aglianico, Malbec, Sagrantino, Nebbiolo, Tannat, Grillo, and Vermentino.  I could probably get pretty close to a century just in the Adelaide Hills, but really where’s the fun in that?

Fiano is a strongly flavoured grape variety which is most widely grown in the south of Italy. Historically it is thought to possibly originated with Greek settlers, and that it was the grape vitis apiana used in the Roman wine Apianum produced in the vicinity of Avellino.  The root of apiana is the Latin for bees, which are strongly attracted to Fiano grapes in those vineyards.  More recently, Fiano di Avellino DOCG is the most famous made from Fiano, and “apianum” is often seen on bottles of the region.  It can be found in over a dozen other DOC regions, though more often than not as a contributing grape in a blend instead of as a varietal or the major component.  It’s not widely seen outside of Italy, with of course Australia being the exception.

Fiano is a thick skinned grape with small berries and typically low yields, and has therefore not always been the most popular among producers.  The wine it produces can smell of honey and pears when young, but is capable of ageing and the young fruit gives way to spicy and nutty characters with development.

I wish I had more information about Scott Winemaking, but I may be able to string together a few guesses based on the single page of information on the website.  Given the location, it’s a small producer, possibly a single winemaker named Sam.  He lists four wines including this one, with the others being a Shiraz Sangiovese blend, a classic sparkling wine blend of Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay, and a sparkling Pinot Grigio.  I hope to update this if I get to meet the producer.

This wine lives up to expectations as far at Fiano.  It’s certainly very modern in that it has the colour that the industry demands of a young white.  The nose is clean, with fresh pear, cinnamon, and a hint of honey.  I had some perry over the weekend and it came right back to me.  On the palate it’s very crisp with good acidity.  The flavours match what was promised on the nose, along with slightly spicier notes and a hint of nuttiness, though I did have a fair number of toasted pine nuts with dinner so they may be sticking on my palate.  I would have put this at around $25 retail and it appears that’s pretty spot on.  It’s a very good wine, quite right at that price, though frankly I’m willing to pay a premium for the rare or exotic which I think this is.  I know it’s not the only South Australian Fiano so I’m hoping that the others live up to the quality level set by this one.

*My favourite place in the world to drink martinis is Dukes Hotel in London.  Their bar is staffed exclusively by Italians, or so I thought.  I asked an older barman if everyone who worked there was Italian and he said “No, everyone else is Italian.  I am Sicilian.”  So there you have it.

 

Pikes Clare Valley Riesling 2000

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Pikes Clare Valley Riesling 2000

Pikes Clare Valley Riesling 2000

In the manner of one in a 12 step program, I’m making the rounds of admitting my past failings and trying to make amends.  This week, it’s Riesling, that noble grape so ignobly ignored by this blog over the last few months.  If I were clever, it would be a German Riesling, and then I could make peace with a country that I’ve so far neglected, but alas not tonight.

So tonight it’s the Pikes Clare Valley Riesling 2000.  We hosted a party this past weekend and while I tried my best to pour non-stop throughout, somehow we ended up with a surplus of three bottles of Riesling, this being the oldest of them.  Funnily enough, I took three bottles out of the cellar last week for a special tasting sometime soon, so before dinner this evening I had a half case of Riesling chilling in the fridge, something I don’t think has ever in my life been the case.

This is a good wine for this column, in that it ticks a lot of boxes.  First, it’s from Clare, which is an area I like.  Also in Australia the Clare Valley and Riesling are like the Hunter Valley and Semillon, or the Barossa Valley and Shiraz.  Second, Pikes is a well known and well respected winery, which balances out my penchant for wanting to write about Georgian Saperavi.  Finally, this is an older bottle, and Riesling is a grape that can age as well as any white, and typically more than most reds.

So I’ll start with the grape, Riesling.  As a wine professional, I have an obligation to claim Riesling is my favourite white when anyone asks (though it’s possible to get away with Grüner Veltliner).  However, to be honest, since no one is reading, it’s not my favourite.  I much prefer a well made Chardonnay or a Rhone white, but in the industry everyone must profess their love of Riesling, and mention that it’s without a doubt going to replace Sauvignon Blanc or Chardonnay or Pinot Gris/Grigio (whichever is most popular) next summer.

As long as I’ve been interested in wine (which is not as long as most, I’m sure), Riesling has not been the most fashionable white.  It’s certainly noble, and people have been making excellent wine from it forever, but it was in fashion at some point in the recent past before I was in the trade, and it’s not been back since.  Fashion is fickle, and it will likely be back at some point, but for now you can observe that the most prized bottle of Australian Riesling, Grosset’s Polish Hill, will set you back approximately $40, while a similarly prized bottle of Shiraz will likely be in excess of ten times that amount.  Yes, the cost structures for reds versus whites are very different, but still, it’s silly.  However, it does mean that if you aren’t a dedicated follower of fashion, you can get some seriously high quality wine for a good price.

So fashion aside, Riesling is an interesting grape.  It’s typically thin skinned, and produces highly acidic, aromatic white wine.  It’s international, and not just with a single home in the Old World and some colonization in the New.  It’s grown widely in Germany, France, Austria, and Switzerland, as well as throughout the New World.  It does best in cooler climates, and has a preference for slate and sandy clay soils.  It is thought that the wine made from Riesling grapes has a particular ability to express the soil in which the grapes were grown, and as such is typically made into wine with very little exposure to air or oak that would change its character.  Wine made from Riesling grapes can range from bone dry to late harvest, to botrytized, and to even sweeter still ice wine.  Sparkling wine is also made from it.  For a white, it has an almost unmatched capacity to age, going from a zingy fruity young wine to an older wine with distinct petrol or kerosene aromas.

Clare is a wine region about 120km north of Adelaide, and is best known for Riesling.  It is a series of valleys in an elevated pocket of land.  Long warm days and cool nights during the growing season are the norm, with cold winters and little rainfall.  Soils are varied, with both red topsoil over limestone and slate being found in different parcels.  Other areas range from alluvial ground to sandy loams with degraded quartz.  Several producers bottle Rieslings under the names of smaller subregions as the nature of the grape and winemaking allows the differences in the soils to show through.  While Riesling is the grape for which the region is best known, the cool climate and altitude also produces Shiraz, Cabernet Sauvignon and Semillon.  A mailing-list-only cult winery, Wendouree, is best known for their reds, and I’m a particular fan of the Malbec they produce as a varietal a few times a decade it seems.

Pikes is a family winery that has roots in South Australia going back to 1878, which is fairly far back for Australia.  The name was first known for brewing beer, and a beer of their name is still made, though I’m not certain that the family has an stake in that business.  The current wine company dates to 1984 when it was established in the Clare Valley.  It is best know for Riesling, though they have a range of about a dozen or so other wines, both red and white.  They produce both this Riesling and a Reserve called “The Merle”.

This wine is a medium gold in colour – nearly 12 years in bottle will do that.  The nose has some lovely kerosene notes, along with some bruised apple and lime.  The palate is zesty, but not quite zingy, if that makes sense.  It has a strongly citrus flavour profile.  Lime is the foremost flavour, with some lemon and a bit of orange blossom along for the ride.  However, despite the citric flavours, it’s not as acidic as they would lead me to expect.  It has a good length and is holding up pretty well, but I don’t think it’s going to improve.  A decent Riesling, but not great, which after twelve years would be a bit of a disappointment.    For me, however, it is a gift I received and then consumed within 48 hours so I enjoyed it.

Bogle Vineyards Petite Sirah 2008

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Bogle Vineyards Petite Sirah 2008

Bogle Vineyards Petite Sirah 2008

This bottle is another case of me seeing an interesting varietal on the shelf in a wine shop and not being able to help myself.  Not so long ago when I was just starting to learn some less obvious things about grapes and wine I learned that Petite Sirah, a wine I knew from the USA, was called Durif in Australia.  I now know that a huge number of grapes change their name from region to region or country to country, but having that one bit of data made me feel like I knew something that was a bit rarefied.  Of course, the more you know, the more you realize how little you know, but I will always treasure that brief point in time where I felt like I was one up on the world in terms of knowing something.  Alas, now that I know nothing, and worse than that, what I thought I knew wasn’t quite right.

So the wine today is in fact one of the aforementioned varietals, the Bogle Vineyards Petite Sirah 2008.  Again, from general to specific, this is a wine from the USA, and from California in particular.  However, the grapes are sourced from multiple vineyards across at least two American Viticultural Areas, and in fact two counties, so California is the most specific area of origin that can be put on the label.  The website is much more specific, but I’ll get to that.

At one point I thought I’d have a consistent format in terms of region, grape, producer and then wine.  I’m covering all those points, generally speaking, but I’m going with the topic that’s most interesting for me as the opener.  In this case, it’s the grape, Petite Sirah.  As I mentioned, I had been under the impression that it was another name for Durif, but that’s only part of the story.  DNA profiling from the University of California, Davis in the late 1990s revealed the name was being used by four different grape varieties.  One was Durif, but some vines called Petite Sirah were in fact Syrah, Peloursin, and a Peloursin x Durif crossing.  As I mentioned with regard to the origins of Sauvignon Gris in Chile, confusion over grape varieties is quite common.  I think generally these days if something is labelled Petite Sirah, it’s the same as Durif, but perhaps not always.

So anyway, for Petite Sirah that is also Durif, the variety came into being as a cross between Peloursin and Syrah and was spread throughout southeastern France in the second half of the 19th century.  It was known as resistant to downy mildew but was not seen as a high quality grape.  It has since all but disappeared from France, but is quite common within North and South America, particularly California.  It does well in warm regions, and produces a dark, balanced, tannic red wine.  It’s often blended with Zinfandel, giving some backbone to go with the perfume and fruit.

So, California.  It’s a big place, and they grow wine all over it.  I just so happen to have a map of California’s Winegrowing Regions in front of me, courtesy of the California Wines stand at vinexpo 2011 and it lists 111 AVAs.  (It turns out it’s also online, here.)  However, rather than talk in generalities (or to try to specifically address all 111), I’d rather talk about the AVAs from which these grapes came, Clarksburg and Lodi.  They’re near one another, however, Clarksburg is in Sacramento County while Lodi is in San Joaquin County.  The AVA system in the USA allows the use of county names if grapes are from the same county but different AVAs, but if they’re from different counties, the AVA goes to the state level, hence this is a wine of California.  They’re both not far from Sacramento itself, in what’s broadly termed the Central Valley, though the map I have refers to it as the Inland Valleys region, made up of the Sacramento Valley and the San Joaquin Valley.  Given that Chile also has a Central Valley, perhaps they want to avoid regional confusion.

I’m sure there are worlds of difference between Clarksburg and Lodi, but for the purposes of this blog I’m going to lump them together.   Both describe themselves as Mediterranean climates with warm days and cool nights, with dry growing seasons and rain during the winter.  Having lived in San Francisco, I can attest to the blast of cool air from the sea that goes straight through the Golden Gate towards Sacramento every evening, blanketing the city in fog and cold air.  Soils range from granitic and rich, through to sandy loams, with heavy clay regions and well-drained stony soils thrown into the mix.  Bogle in particular describes their Clarksburg vineyard as having fertile clay and peat soils, while the Lodi vineyard is of sandy loam.  Both regions feel the influence not only of the cool sea air of the Pacific in the evening, but also the impact of various rivers that run through the area toward the Sacramento-San Joaquin River Delta.

Bogle Vineyards is family run operation, with the family having been involved in farming in the area for six generations.  Their first vineyards were planted in the 1970s, and their holdings are now in excess of 1500 acres.  Their website lists 8 varietal wines from vineyards throughout northern California, as well as a Zinfandel/Petite Sirah/Mourvèdre blend and a ‘Port’ from Petite Sirah.  (The EU’s lawyers have not completely conquered California as yet.)

In the glass this wine is a very dark purple, though not so much that it has dark legs.  The nose has a reserved fragrance, with a little perfume and blue fruit coming through.  On the palate, it has a medium plus body, with a very pleasing array of flavours – plums, blueberries and spice, along with some tannins and vanilla from the oak.  I think agreeable is a good term to describe this wine, in that it’s well made and is likable, but it’s not challenging.  There is some acidity, but it doesn’t keep up with the fruit or even the tannins.  That said, it is very easy drinking, and it’s a good value for its price point.  An everyday wine.

Château Pierre-Bise Anjou Villages Sur Schistes 2009

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Château Pierre-Bise Anjou Villages Sur Schistes 2009

Château Pierre-Bise Anjou Villages Sur Schistes 2009

I’ve had my notes for this wine sitting around for a few weeks, and I wasn’t sure I was going to find the time to write up an actual post because I’ve been a bit busy with this or that.  However, I’ve been inspired to finally put this up because of an article today in the New York Times about a dispute in the Loire Valley that mentions this producer.

The wine is Château Pierre-Bise Anjou Villages Sur Schistes 2009.  Working from general to specific, this is French, from the Loire Valley, and in particular the Appellation Anjou Villages contrôlée.  That AOC is exclusively for red wines, made up of 46 communes, and makes light to medium-bodied wines from Cabernet Franc and/or Cabernet Sauvignon.

But first context, starting with why I write what I write.  I’m pretty ombibulous with regard to what wine I enjoy, and so looking my notes could be a Drunkard’s Walk through the cellar of a wine merchant.  However, I am influenced by a number of outside inputs, and the New York Times is one of them.  They have an excellent wine writer, Eric Asimov, and often I run out to grab a bottle after having read one of his articles, such as was the case recently with his article on Douro reds which prompted me to write about the Niepoort Douro Vertente 2006.  I try to keep up with the industry whenever I can, but there are so many people writing so much, that it’s quite the task.

So the article in question is broadly about the Loire Valley trying to implement a ranking system for their vast collection of vineyards.  Within many some other French wine regions, there are various official methods of determining the quality level of vineyards and wines made from their grapes, in particular in Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, and to a lesser respect Alsace.  Within the Loire however, all vineyards are considered equal.  In particular this article is about a small appellation called Quarts-de-Chaume which produces a sweet wine, and how the introduction of a ranking system, and along with it some regulations as to how grapes are grown and processed, will impact some producers which is causing them to oppose it.  My summary does not do it justice, so please have a look for yourself if such things are of interest.

How this article about a sweet wine appellation has brought me to write about a dry red wine is Claude Papin.  He is the producer of this Anjou Villages, but also produces a Quarts-de-Chaume (among others) and is the head of their local vignerons’ association.  As such, he is closely involved in the dispute, and is quoted in the article.  Seeing a news article that relates to the producers of a wine I recently tried was enough to get me moving on this post.

So, Anjou as I mentioned is within the Loire Valley in France.  If the Loire Valley, going from the west to the east, is divided into four sub-regions, they would be Nantais (home of Muscadet), Anjou and Saumur, Touraine, and finally the Central Vineyards (central France that is, but the easternmost Loire Valley).  Anjou itself is the area around the city of Angers, and the region as a whole produces red, white and rosé wines, still and sparkling, which range from dry to very sweet.  Grapes commonly associated with Anjou are Chenin Blanc, Grolleau, and Cabernet Franc, though Cabernet Sauvignon, Gamay, Pinot Noir and Pineau d’Aunis (Chenin Noir) can also be found.  Anjou-Villages AOC is one of many appellations in the region, and the AOC rules only allow Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon, and they’re commonly found blended together as is the case with this wine.  The climate is continental, though they are not so far from the coast as to avoid maritime influences.  The main soil type for grape growing is based on schist, a metamorphic rock, from which this wine takes its name.

Anjou Crest

Anjou Crest

Another Anjou fact – it your wine is from Anjou, you can emboss your bottles with the region’s crest.  As a fan of regionally-embossed bottles, I approve.

Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon are such familiar grapes (found in four other wines each that I’ve covered so far) that they hardly need to be described.  However, this is the first instance where Cabernet Franc is the dominant player in a blend (and the first time Cabernet Sauvignon provides only a supporting role) so it may be worth describing them a bit in this context.

Cabernet Franc is one of the classic Bordeaux red grapes, and as my previous tastings can attest, it often plays only a supporting role to Cabernet Sauvignon.  It buds and matures earlier than Cabernet Sauvignon, and is less vulnerable to poor conditions at harvest.  It produces a lighter wine in terms of colour and tannins, and generally matures earlier.  It’s also lighter in body, with more fruit than Cabernet Sauvignon, and often a green note that I associate not so much with under-ripeness but rather with stems or leaves.  What Cabernet Franc gets in this blend from Cabernet Sauvignon is structure, as well as colour and tannins.  It brings a bit of backbone to the blend, though without dominating the lighter fruit notes of the Cabernet Franc.

Finally, Château Pierre-Bise, bringing me finally back to what prompted me to write this.  The name means stone and wind, and refers to the château (or castle) itself, which is on a ridge overlooking the Layon (both the town and the river), roughly 17km south by southwest of Angers.  The château and some nearby vines were bought in 1959 by Pierre Papin, who passed them on to his son Claude Papin who has expanded the holdings significantly with different parcels across different nearby appellations.  There is a hugely comprehensive article about Château Pierre-Bise and Claude Papin at thewinedoctor.com from which I’ve pulled a few facts.  He holds 60 hectares of vineyards, with 40 being Chenin Blanc and the remaining 20 being largely a mix of Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon and Gamay.  His produces wines that hail from appellations within Anjou, Savennières, Coteaux du Layon, Chaume, and Quarts de Chaume in white and red, dry to sweet.  For more details, please check out thewinedoctor.com.

Finally, this wine in front of me.  Very dark in colour, and on the cusp between garnet and ruby.  The nose doesn’t give up much – there is some perfume and dark red berries, but it’s not particularly intense.  In the mouth, it’s medium bodied, but with vibrant acidity.  Here lies the fruit, with intense tart, sour cherries and blackcurrant.  There’s also fine but very noticeable tannins, though not as green as I would have expected from Cabernet Franc.  Apparently the fermentation is done without pumping over to avoid extraction, which could explain it.  It’s a well balanced wine, though it would likely be better still in a few years.  I should have bought a second bottle to put in the cellar.

Casa Marín Sauvignon Gris 2008

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Casa Marín Sauvignon Gris 2008

Casa Marín Sauvignon Gris 2008

Back to back interesting varietal wines, and if you thought Largein was obscure, get a load of this:  Casa Marín Sauvignon Gris 2008. I have to talk about the grape variety first, because it’s quite unusual.

First off, Sauvignon Gris is a real grape variety, though I had never heard of it until I visited Casa Marín for a tasting.  It’s a clonal mutation of Sauvignon Blanc, but not to be confused with Sauvignon Vert which apparently has nothing to do with either of them.  It’s primarily found in Bordeaux (who knew?) and Chile where is was brought in along with Sauvignon Blanc and Sauvignon Vert clippings.  Stories of varieties in the New World mistakenly being thought of as another variety abound, from Carménère  growing in Chile under the name Merlot, to the recent Albariño that turned out to be Savagnin confusion in Australia.  However, while Sauvignon Blanc and Sauvignon Vert are difficult to distinguish on the vine, Sauvignon Gris has grapes that are more pink, along the lines of Pinot Gris.  It also ripens earlier, has thicker skin and is fuller-bodied.

Bordeaux, New Zealand, and Chile have Sauvignon Gris producers.  In Bordeaux it’s allowed in their whites, and Haut Brion grows some, most likely as part of their white blend. However, it’s seriously obscure, and as identifying the exact blend of your wine is very optional, there’s no good way of knowing who else might be using it.  There are a few producers experimenting there with it as a varietal, such as Domaine des Marechaux.  I’ve found references to it being known as Fié Gris in parts of France, but the only Fié Gris wines I’ve come up with are from the Loire and it’s not clear it’s the same variety.

New Zealand has a few producers experimenting with Sauvignon Gris.  The largest, Montana Wines, now known as Brancott Estate, released a Reserve Marlborough Sauvignon Gris 2009, and as Brancott Estate it released  the “R” Renwick Marlborough Sauvignon Gris 2010, though I don’t know if it was considered enough of a success for them to continue with it.  Clearview of Hawkes Bay released a 2010 Reserve Sauvignon Gris, though it’s not clear if they’ve released a 2011 (yet?).

Chile is where Sauvignon Gris has the most traction.  That’s not to say it’s an important grape there, rather that there are more producers making varietal wines out of it and advertising them as such than anywhere else.  Cousiño-Macul does a varietal in Maipo Valley.  Viña Leyda produce a Single Vineyard Sauvignon Gris in their corner of the San Antonio Valley, inland and south from where Casa Marín produces it, 4km from the Pacific.

Even though this is the first Chilean wine I’m covering, I’m going to focus on the San Antonio Valley in particular instead of Chile in general.  While the wines of Chile are a bit thin on the ground in this part of the world, I’m sure I’ll find others about which to write, and failing that there are more in the cellar.

The San Antonio Valley in Chile is a very small region and officially part of the D.O. Aconcagua, situated between the Pacific Ocean and the much larger Maipo Valley.  (Confusingly, there is also a San Antonio Valley AVA in California.)  The entirety of the region is within 15km of the sea, with both maritime influences and altitude.  While the Aconcagua Valley is generally described as having alluvial soils, on their official website Casa Marín itself has a detailed description of the terroir of each of their vineyards.  (Their blog is worth a look as well.)  They have a wide variety of clays:  red, deep, heavy and loamy depending on the vineyard, along with other calcerous and sandy influences.  Plantings in the San Antonio Valley are largely dominated by Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Pinot Noir, though there is no shortage of less widely planted varieties.

Casa Marín is a medium-sized, family-owned winery that was established in 2000, and it sits only 4km from the coast.  To me it is one of the ultimate New World wineries, in that the founder created it from absolutely nothing.  Much of the land that is now their vineyards had never been cultivated.  Effectively, Maria Luz Marín arrived with expertise in wine and business, as well as what I imagine must have been considerable funding.  She picked a location, divided it into blocks by terroir, planted appropriate varieties in each, and built a state of the art winery.  Four or so years later she brought her wines to the UK as the most expensive white wines from Chile.  Nicely done.

As to the wine in front of me, it’s very interesting.  On the one hand, it’s very familiar.  Colour with most modern whites says so little, and this is no exception.  It has slightly more of a green tinge than most, but nothing out of the ordinary.  The nose is herbaceous in a way that is not uncommon in Sauvignon Blanc, but with a slight whiff of Eastern Skunk Cabbage. (It was a common water plant where I grew up and the smell is very distinctive, and not in a bad way.  Apologies for using an obscure reference, but it’s really the only thing that it conjures up.)  The palate is medium-bodied, with zesty acidity.  There’s certainly some citrus, lime perhaps, and it’s very crisp.  The palate is not overt – there’s some underlying pepper, but it’s as though the flavours are so well integrated that it’s hard for me to pull out individual flavours.  (That may be more me and my palate than the wine.)  I think this is a very well made wine, and I’m putting it in the very good quality bracket.

On the other hand, with a new (to me or on the scene) varietal wine, the question is where does it fit?  I think the obvious starting point is Sauvignon Blanc, which is incredibly popular of late.  It’s a great grape, but fashion is fickle and people drift in their tastes.  I can imagine some moving to Sauvignon Gris, in that is offers many familiar flavours, but has more body and seems to focus on the flavours of Sauvignon Blanc that people like most.  I think it will not be an easy sell, but I’m sure starting a world class winery from nothing in Chile in 2000 wasn’t easy either.

Point Leo Road Vineyard Lagrein 2006

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Point Leo Road Vineyard Lagrein 2006

Point Leo Road Vineyard Lagrein 2006

I’m back in Victoria, Australia, having not only largely neglected it for my first few months of writing, but having added insult to injury by having the pin in the map for the Hunter Semillon turn up near Adelaide because that’s where the producer is based.  I did try make sure I wouldn’t get stopped in the airport the next time I fly to Melbourne by covering the Sorrenberg Gamay and today I head south from Melbourne itself to the Mornington Peninsula.

The wine in question is the Point Leo Road Vineyard Lagrein 2006, a new producer for me, but a grape I’ve had in its New World form at least once before.  First though, the Mornington Peninsula.  Melbourne sits on a the Port Phillip Bay, and there are two wine regions that separate the Bay from the sea, Geelong to the west of the inlet, or The Rip as it’s called, and the Mornington Peninsula to the east.  It’s known within Australia for being a cool climate, with influences both from the Southern Ocean and the Bay.  It is as far from the equator as the very south of Italy or the lower half of Spain, not exactly Europe’s coolest regions, so everything is relative.  That said, it actually is fairly cool – summer average temperatures are just under roughly 20C/68F with high humidity and some rain, with lots of rain in the winter and spring.  Soils vary widely across the region.

The region as a whole is dominated by Pinot Noir, which makes up nearly half of the plantings, but a much bigger mindshare as the next biggest contender is Chardonnay at only 25%.  In terms of region/grape association, Mornington Peninsula Pinot Noir ranks up with Barossa Shiraz or Hunter Semillon.  And while I’ll certainly write about a Mornington Peninsula Pinot Noir at some point, today I’m drinking a Lagrein.

Lagrein is an ancient red grape that survives in its Northern Italian homeland on just a few hundred hectares in Alto Adige.  It’s used to make tannic wines on it’s own, as well as a fragrant rosé,  It’s also used to add colour and tannins to blends, including Pinot Nero (Noir).  Plums are a common aroma/taste associated with the variety, as are more savoury notes of tobacco and chocolate.  Before doing some research, I assumed that like many interesting varietals, it arrived in Australia with immigrants from its region of origin.  However, it has a much more specific Australian genesis, having been cultivated by Dr Peter May of the University of Melbourne, Burnley Campus, in 1988 as outlined in an article he wrote, available at Vinodiversity.  At present, there are just two dozen Australian wineries working with Lagrein, and there are apparently plantings in California as well.  I first came into contact with the variety through Domain Day, who produce the Garganega I tasted some months ago.

Point Leo Road Vineyard is a small winery, with the founding family, the Mays, having started out as contract grape growers in 1996 with plantings of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.  Their range of wines includes reds, whites, rosé and sparkling from Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Pinot Gris, and this Lagrein.

This wine is a very deep colour in the glass – still ruby even at six years old.  There was fair amount of accumulated sediment when I decanted the bottle, which had been stood up for a few days.  The nose is clean and of medium intensity, showing some development, and notes of black cherry and dark chocolate.  On the palate, the acidity is the first thing that hits you – very tart, with the plums that I was looking for but didn’t find on the nose, as well as some tobacco. It has a fairly light body, and while there are some green tannins evident, they’re well integrated.  It’s a good wine though the tart fruit is somewhat jarring on the first sip.  I can’t say it’s out of balance though, certainly not without having a better idea as to the varietal typicity that comes with more experience.  I’ll have to see about tracking down an Italian Lagrein to see how the Old and New compare.

Winery location is approximate to Point Leo Road – they don’t have a cellar door and their business address is a PO Box.

A Day in the Cellar

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Half cases of RWT

Half cases of RWT

As I sit here typing, I’m pretty beat.  I spent most of today in a climate controlled storage facility where I keep my wine, moving bottles from my old storage unit to a larger one.  Wine – heavier than you might think!  So today, the topic is collecting wine, which it seems I do.

Before I talk about collecting wine, first I must say though that I collect wine in order to then drink it.  I have nothing to say about wine as an investment, because I have not nor do I have any intention of ever selling wine that I have bought.  It’s not a judgement thing – I have been a grateful customer of people who engage in wine investment – but it’s just not how I operate.  A bottle of wine is potential happiness, and sometimes static happiness as well, but for me it’s not something that I’d be interested in converting into cash.

There are a number of reason to collect wine.  The first is that by having a collection of wine, you’re more likely to be able to summon forth the right bottle at the right moment.  For a given meal or special occasion your local wine merchants may be able to help you, but having a ready supply on which to draw is often not just convenient, but sometimes irreplaceable.

Second, bottles change over time as they age, and the character you get from a bottle that’s been properly cellared for a decade or two is very different from what you can get from a current release.  Also, such bottles are usually very difficult and/or expensive to procure on the open market, so your cellar might be the only source for a particular wine/vintage.  Aged wine doesn’t appeal to everyone, but I certainly enjoy the secondary characteristics that come with time.

Third, each bottle in a cellar can be something of a stored memory, brought back to the fore in the drinking.  Most of the wines I’ve collected have been put away during the time that I’ve been married, and for many of them they conjure up a memory of when my wife and I bought the wine, or when we first tried it.  I came across a bottle of Sassicaia while looking through the various cases and was immediately brought back to the night I proposed as it is what we were drinking.  Likewise I found a bottle of Jermann’s Dreams which we drank together on our honeymoon.

There are certainly downsides of collecting wine.  First, it takes up a fair amount of space. Second, it must be stored carefully, meaning somewhere generally cool and dark, without vibrations or temperature variations.  I hope at some point to have a cellar at home, but for now I stick cases and bottles in a wine storage unit, which leads me to downsides three and four, it can be inconvenient and expensive.  So really, if you drink wine enough and care enough about the wine you drink, I encourage people to collect wine, but it’s something best done thoughtfully lest you find you’ve built up a collection of expensive vinegar.

My collection went into storage a couple of years ago when we moved from a location with a cellar to one without, and they were put into the unit in some haste, and without a proper inventory.  That’s not good for a few reasons.  First, if any bottles had gone missing, I might have never known.  In my case, I have no such worries – it’s a secure facility, and my collection is neither high profile nor particularly valuable, give or take a few pricey bottles.  My collection of half-cases of RWT from 1997 to 2006 is still complete (mostly pictured above – the 1999s are not in their original box).  The real problem though with not knowing what I have in storage is that wines can age past their prime without being drunk.  I found a rosé which most likely would have been good to drink a few years ago, which is a bit of a shame.

On the other hand, there are some joys to not knowing what you have.  Some wines which I might have been tempted to drink now have (what I see as) the benefit of a couple more years of bottle ageing.  The bigger joy is finding bottles that had been forgotten, ready and waiting to be drunk.  For instance, it turns out I have another bottle of Dominus, this one a year older than the one I enjoyed so much yesterday.  I have not one as I had thought, but two bottles of 2005 Silex from the late Didier Dagueneau, which means I can drink one and still have another for years down the road.

That said, I will inventory my wines, not so much to make sure nothing goes past its prime, but rather just to know what I have and to better be able to summon the right bottle at the right time.  I think the collection weighs in at roughly 65 cases, which is too many bottles to remember, so a spreadsheet/database is required.  Oh, and there’s a nice clutch of large format bottles, about which I will blog in the near future.

And to tease further upcoming posts, I took a few bottles out of storage as I was organizing.  One is a particularly rare varietal which I look forward to documenting, and a further three will have to be a special tasting on their own.  Think big hair and shoulder pads.

Dominus Estate Napa Valley Napanook Vineyard 1996

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Dominus Estate Napa Valley Napanook Vineyard 1996

Dominus Estate Napa Valley Napanook Vineyard 1996

It’s Valentine’s Day which calls for something special. In this case, it’s a bottle I’ve been holding on to for a while and it’s time to crack it open. This bottle of Dominus Estate Napa Valley Napanook Vineyard 1996 should be just about ready to drink.

I should write about Napa Valley AVA and Yountville, I should write about the Cabernet Sauvignon, the Cabernet Franc and the Petit Verdot, I should stick to my region, grape, producer, wine format, but this is Dominus, and that’s much more interesting right now. If I’m good, I’ll go back and put in a meaningful paragraph or two for each, but really, it’s Dominus (and it’s Valentine’s Day, so I have things I need to be doing).

Dominus Estate is quite the winery, with a long history and an impressive reputation. The vineyards date to 1836, which for an American vineyard, especially in California, is exceedingly old. In 1982 Christian Moueix entered into a partnership to develop the site, which had provided premium grapes for some of Napa’s iconic wines throughout much of the 20th century, and then in 1995 he took sole ownership of the property. Moueix’s family has been famous in the French wine trade for decades, and in addition to Dominus Estates, he manages Château Pétrus which Jancis Robinson describes as the most famous wine of Pomerol and the most expensive of Bordeaux.

So if you were in charge of Château Pétrus and had just taken ownership of an excellent winery in Napa, what would you do? Build a winery, right? And who would you get to design it? How about Herzog and de Meuron, the Swiss architects who went on to design the new Tate Modern in what had been the Bankside Power Station in London (which is possibly my favourite building in the world). More recently they designed the Beijing National Stadium, better known as The Bird’s Nest. The winery is pretty amazing – it’s worth checking out some pictures if you haven’t seen it before.

Dominus Estate makes two wines, Dominus which is has produced since 1983 and a second wine, Napanook, which was first released in 1996. The label on Dominus has been pretty standard since 1991, and featured the words “Napanook Vineyard” diagonally from the bottom left to the upper right through to 1996, the vintage year of this bottle. In 1996, there was some confusion between the premier label, Dominus, with “Napanook Vineyard” across the label, and the second wine, Napanook. As a result, the following year that confusing text was changed to “Estate Bottled”.

This wine is a treasure. It’s a deep garnet in the glass, and when I decanted it there was very little sediment, even though the bottle had been stood up for a few days. The nose is fairly intense with lots of tobacco and green herbs as well as some stewed currants. The palate is very rich – more tobacco, but also red meat, rich spice, and concentrated black fruit. The tannins are smooth and fully integrated and there is an underlying zest of acidity that keeps the wine feeling fresh despite the nearly 14 years in bottle. This wine was perfect with slow cooked beef cheeks, and didn’t let up when we were on to dark chocolate ganache bars with ice cream.