Robert Mondavi Winery celebrates its 50th anniversary this year, and though it is no longer family-owned and run, they are still capable of making some pretty great wine. If you do get a chance to try some of their 100% To Kalon wines, please don't pass that up. They are a glimpse of Napa's history. In particular, some of their white wines from To Kalon are surprisingly good.
I've had a decent amount of Robert Mondavi wine in my time, and even this wine, albeit in a different vintage, and so my hopes weren't incredibly high. But, being that 2012 was a stellar year in Napa, and Robert Mondavi at least used to make great wine, I thought this might be a good chance to prove me wrong. This was better than I remember and really not all that bad. I still think it's a far shot from some of their higher end wines, but I can taste some of the same concepts here as I get out of say their Oakville cabernet; after all, about a quarter of the wine comes from the vineyard that made Mondavi famous, To Kalon. To Kalon is over 400 acres located in the heart of the Oakville appellation stretching outward from the winery. There's a lot of exceptional wine being made from To Kalon fruit, and not just by Mondavi. So it's nice that this basic, $20 bottle does capture a hint of that famous source. It lacks the full depth and complexity that this vineyard is truly known for, but it still surprised me. There was a decent amount of fruit, perhaps a little on the sweet side, and some structure, though not quite enough. Where it really lost me was in the disproportionate perception of alcohol. It made the wine feel out of balance.
Robert Mondavi Winery celebrates its 50th anniversary this year, and though it is no longer family-owned and run, they are still capable of making some pretty great wine. If you do get a chance to try some of their 100% To Kalon wines, please don't pass that up. They are a glimpse of Napa's history. In particular, some of their white wines from To Kalon are surprisingly good.
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A good friend of mine is the wine club director at a retailer I work with, Gary's Wine and Marketplace. I don't subscribe to the club, but I still like following his selections. While they all tend to be pretty interesting, this past month I noticed one that I had to try. I'm always looking for really good local wines. Usually that means California, and very rarely New Jersey. This time, local happens to be New York, a state that has been growing in popularity for its wine production. Most of the attention these days is focused on the Finger Lakes, though there's been some chatter about Long Island, in particular the North Fork. This bottle caught my attention quick as I've known of Lieb Cellars for a while, but haven't tasted any in quite some time. So I was curious to see what they were up to these days. I was pretty impressed right off the bat as it is a well-developed, nicely balanced wine. They use a blend of stainless steel and French oak to make this wine that has added a bit of complexity. For a $20 chardonnay from New York, it certainly wasn't what I was expecting and definitely worth the buy. After the holidays, I'm a little low on my stock for drinking at home so I was looking for something quick to grab from the store tonight. Since I've been drinking a lot of Italian red recently, I looked there first and found this bottle. I'm a pretty big fan of good Barbaresco wine, named for a village in the Piedmont region of Italy, but was skeptical about this for only $18. Most Barbaresco wines are upwards of $30 minimum, with the best topping out at more than $200 a bottle. A quick Google confirms my suspicion that the Cantina del Nebbiolo is a co-operative. This means that many different growers bring their grapes to one facility to be bottled under a single label. It's actually a pretty nice concept, giving growers a little bit more control and power over what happens to their grapes. Many times, if growers don't receive good contracts for their grapes, they are forced to sell them off for cheap as bulk wine. Alternatively, they can sell them to something like a co-op which is somewhere in between. For a co-op wine, this was very reasonably priced and decently good. It's a bit thin for Barbaresco but there is plenty of cherry, chocolate and earth notes. Lovely for more of an everyday wine. Definitely not a bad pick. It hasn't been that long since I've been drinking negronis. I remember first hearing about them about four years ago from a friend in the drinks industry. This was about the time I was really starting to experiment with mixed drinks so I was all ears. I already knew I was a fan of gin, so this seemed like a perfect drink for me. I bought the necessary ingredients and I wasn't disappointed. Not even close. And this week is Negroni Week so what better time to celebrate this wonderful drink. A negroni is a great bitter cocktail that is traditionally comprised of equal parts gin, campari, and sweet vermouth. I say bitter, because both campari and sweet vermouth--despite its deceptive name--are “bitter” ingredients meaning they are not sweet. Bitters are usually made from some type of alcohol that is then infused with various herbs and spices to achieve the desired flavor. Because they tend to be more herbal or botanical in flavor, there are very little sweet components and therefore the flavor is perceived as bitter. Often these are mixed with other ingredients to tone down the bitterness, but in a negroni, it is a main component. Let’s break it down a little. Campari is a bitter liqueur from Italy that uses both herbs and fruits in its production. It has a notable orange character to it, and a color to match. This is not only used for negronis, but americanos, and very commonly in Italy, Campari soda. Campari-based drinks are common in Italy, especially Northern Italy. I remember being there in 2012 and finding a small little deli for lunch where we were in the company of 8-10 elderly men who were drinking some sort of Campari concoction from a pitcher as part of their midday break. Sweet vermouth is a sweeter version of vermouth, which is basically wine infused or aromatized with herbs and spices. But, sweeter is still not sweet. Apart from negronis, sweet vermouth is used in Manhattans most notably, while dry vermouth is a component in most Martinis. In France and Italy, vermouth is often served on its own as an aperitif. I chose Tribuno vermouth, primarily for the cost and because it comes in a small bottle and I don’t use sweet vermouth that often. Since it is technically wine, vermouth can spoil after a couple months. And finally, gin is a distilled spirit whose primary flavor component comes from the juniper berry. Some gins are more aromatic than others and I prefer those that have a bit more character. I chose Starlight gin, a new one for me, but something that I was eager to try. It was a good choice as it is more fragrant and flavorful than some other gins I’ve tried. There has been a boom recently in small batch gin production so there are more and more great options out there. So grab some Campari, vermouth and gin and make up some negronis. Or find a good bar in your area whose bartender will know what this is and have them make one for you. They’re great as an aperitif before dinner. Or if you’re a 60 year old Italian man, they’re great any time. For more about negronis, check out negroniweek.com or follow the action #NegroniWeek. This past weekend we were up in Massachusetts visiting my mom and sister and her husband. We were pretty busy helping my mom move into her new house, celebrating her birthday, and meeting my new nephew, Walter Seamus, for the first time. But it was all good stuff and I’m excited to go back for our next visit. While there, my sister and her husband were gracious enough to share a great bottle of wine with us. They’d been saving this since their trip to Napa in 2009 so it was nice of them to include us when they finally opened it. The bottle was the 2007 JJ’s Blend from Vincent Arroyo Winery. I’m familiar with Vincent Arroyo, but can’t recall ever tasting any of their wines before this one. They’re located in Calistoga, on the north end of the Napa Valley and specialize in producing petite sirah. While I couldn’t find a breakdown of the 2007 vintage, the current release of this wine is a blend of cabernet sauvignon and cabernet franc. My sister and her husband had been saving this wine until 2015 because when they purchased this bottle at the winery, they were instructed that this was the proper time to drink it. I think the winery was pretty accurate. While I’m sure this wine would have tasted fine in its younger days, by letting it age a little bit, I think the wine became more balanced and more enjoyable. This is one of the beautiful aspects of wine: that it changes with time and while the old maxim “wine gets better with age” is not always true, it often is. Something I love about aged wines is the flavors that you can’t find in young wines. There tend to be more earthier and cooked fruit flavors that are either overpowered by the ripe fruit in young wines, or just aren’t there. With time, some of that fruit dies down and is in greater balance with the other characteristics of the wine. Additionally, the tannins that are so prevalent in many young wines, and that many people find alarming, tend to soften and also become more balanced. I understand that it may be a little challenging to understand what I mean by “more balanced,” and it is a bit of a complicated concept, but essentially what I mean is that the flavors and components of the wine work well together. It’s not too acidic or too tannic. It’s not too fruity or too earthy. And it’s not too bold or too flabby. Everything is just right. And this is something that really is best exemplified in properly aged wine. And that’s why so many wine reviews say, “Best between 2015 and 2035” or whatever the time frame might be. They want you to wait until the wine is at its best so you can truly appreciate how good it can be. It’s not always easy to get these dates right, but when you do, it’s a wonderful thing. I have the pleasure of choosing the wines for the monthly wine club at a local retail store. As part of this role, I get to sample various submissions before making the final selections. And so, recently, my drink of choice was the 2009 Alta Pavina Pinot Noir. Here’s what I learned. Alta Pavina is a winery located in the Castilla y Léon appellation, which is a pretty broad area in the north of Spain. Ribera del Duero, a slightly more familiar wine region, is located within this region. The vineyards are located near the town of Valladolid and the winery has assembled quite a team to help this project take off. Not only is their general manager Diego Ortega, a fairly successful hotelier, but the consulting winemaker is Claude Bourgignon, whose list of other projects includes, but is not limited to, Daumas Gassac, Chateau Le Puy, Harlan Estate and Domaine la Romanée Conti, all highly regarded--and very expensive--wineries. With quite an impressive background, it’s a wonder that M. Bourgignon would choose to work on a relatively new project in Spain. In my opinion, this only proves that Alta Pavina must be on to something by growing Pinot Noir at high altitudes on the slopes of the Duero River. Per European Union regulations, each country in Europe has their own government regulated systems of quality control. In Spain, like much of Europe, there are essentially four levels of classification that fall under these guidelines: 1) Vino de Mesa, or table wine. These wines are rarely seen outside the country and have very little restrictions on how they can be produced. 2) Vino de la Tierra, or country wine. These have slightly higher restrictions on production, but are more about ensuring a place of origin than production standards. 3) Denominación de Origen (DO), or Denomination of Origin. This is the first level of “quality wine” because it has regulations in place for controlling wine production. Each DO has a Consejo Regulador, or Regulatory Council, that evaluates and approves all wine produced in the region. And finally 4) Denominación de Origen Calificada (DOC / DOCa), or Denomination of Qualified Origin. This is the highest level of classification and as such, only two regions have yet to earn this status: Priorat and Rioja. More recently Spain has also introduced a certification called Vino de Pago, which is essentially a vineyard designated wine, and stands outside the traditional classification system. Despite the seemingly ladder-like system of quality, many of Spain’s best wines are not in fact found in the top level. Case in point, Alta Pavina Pinot Noir. Alta Pavina produces wines that fall into the Vino de la Tierra category, and thus are on the lower end of the ladder. The quality, however, easily rivals DOC wine and in many cases far surpasses it. Because these designation are largely based on areas of production and traditional winemaking procedures, there is a lot of wine made that doesn’t qualify for DOC (or even DO) status that is quite exceptional. While this can easily be construed as a flaw in the classification system, I don’t think it is. In my opinion, the way the DO / DOC standards are constructed make them most effective in protecting the traditional way of producing wine in a particular region. The regulations ensure typicity more than quality. Coincidentally, I also made pulled pork sandwiches from leftover pork tenderloin when I drank this wine. It was an excellent pairing. While pinot noir is typically a lighter, more elegant style of wine, the Alta Pavina is a bit spicier and contains a good amount of fruit character. These traits allowed it to stand up much better to the sweet and tangy pulled pork. Moral of the story? The traditional way of doing things is great, but there are also some incredible innovative producers out there. Don’t be afraid to try something new and unusual. It’s safe to say my parents were never big wine people. But sometime in high school, my sister and I came across a box of old, empty wine bottles. It didn’t seem likely that these could be my parents’ wine bottles, so we asked. Turns out, they were. They had saved all the bottles of wine they drank on their honeymoon in Italy. There were only about 15, probably one for every dinner, maybe a couple from lunch. It seems unlikely to me that my parents had been able to finish a whole bottle of wine between just the two of them during the course of a meal, but here was the evidence. I thought it was a pretty cool thing and would be a fun Christmas present for my parents to be able to display these bottles. So my sister and I decided to buy them a wine rack that year. We found something tasteful and ordered it. It came and we assembled it. We filled it with all their empty bottles and sometime after that, a few full bottles made it to the rack. I’m not sure where the bottle of Tosti Asti Spumante came from, but when my mom saw it this past weekend as we were helping her pack she said, “Oh. That could be from my wedding!” My parents were married in 1974. However, upon learning it wasn’t German sparkling wine, she decided it couldn’t be their wedding sparkler. Still, the fact that she thought it might be from her wedding, led me to believe this wine might have some age to it. I immediately told my mom this bottle was not worth opening. That we should save it for posterity, or something like that. But she insisted we open it that night. And why not? After all, it wasn’t getting any better. We might as well open it and see what it was like and be rid of it. One less thing to pack. So I put it in the fridge, and later that night, we opened it. The sign of age was apparent from the moment I took off the foil; there was a little bit of visible wear around the cork cage. Then, when trying to pull the cork out, I noticed a slight release of pressure as soon as the cork started to move. Not a good sign as this most likely meant the seal wasn’t airtight. The cork took some more finagling, and broke off as I tried to pull it out. But the remaining little bit was easy enough to pry out and then we were at the wine. It was golden in color with a tinge of brown, especially around the edges. More bad signs as I know this is much darker than wine like this should be. But, the bad signs stopped there. The aroma was more than reminiscent of moscato, the grape from which Asti is made. It even reminded me of a botrytized dessert wine. And, on the palate, there were flavors of candied orange, honey, ginger, golden raisins and dried fig. There was a bit of an uncharacteristically sherry quality, a little oily and oxidative, but this was by no means overwhelming or unpleasant. For a potentially forty year old wine that is normally drunk within five years, I was more than impressed. So while I don’t expect this to be a normal occurrence, I guess it’s fair to say I shouldn’t judge a wine by its label? Upon a little closer inspection, I noticed that this bottle had the standard government warning and “contains sulfites” disclaimer, two things that became standard practice only in the late ‘80s, so this bottle was probably younger than I had originally thought, but still an interesting find. Moral of the story? Don’t be afraid to try something new (or old). You never know what you might find. I first met Rosemary Cakebread a few years ago at a tasting where she was pouring her wine, Gallica. According to their website, the purpose behind Gallica is to create “balanced and expressive wines which represent the best of a particular vintage. Growing and making wine is about delight in the process and the joy of sharing each unique vintage with others.” Since then I’ve enjoyed Gallica wines and gotten the opportunity to drink or taste them several times over the years. But it was a treat to share a meal with Rosemary herself on my recent trip to Napa and drink a bottle of her 2008 cabernet that she so graciously provided. Gallica is a small production operation. The 2012 cabernet, a vintage that was large for most producers, only yielded 391 cases. I didn’t ask how many cases of the 2008 Rosemary produced, but it’s bound to be less than that. With such small production levels, it’s easier for a winemaker to pay close attention to each barrel and lot. And this type of attention to detail comes through in her winemaking style. She produces wines of extraordinary quality that exhibit a depth of flavor and balance that is hard to come by, since it’s not always a popular style. You’d think it would be, but in this, wine isn’t different from many other businesses. To produce anything at this level, it usually requires two things: commitment and quality ingredients (read more money). A lot of businesses have one or the other. They either come with great passion to provide something unique and to do it better than anyone else but without sufficient funding to make it happen; or they come with a lot of money but no clue how to provide a good product, or they ebb and flow with the tide looking to gain the biggest return on their investment. But the best producers, in wine as in anything else, have a vision and stick with it no matter what. And they have the means to be committed to that vision despite the changing tides of consumer tastes. In my opinion, Rosemary brings that passion to Gallica and has stood by her vision of producing “balanced and expressive wines which represent the best of a particular vintage.” I admire that. And it shows in her wines. The 2008 cabernet sauvignon had deep black fruits balanced by earthy red currants, spice and just a hint of a smoky quality that sung beautifully. If you ever get a chance to try a bottle of this small production wine, don’t pass it up. I knew very little about this wine when I first picked up the bottle, but quickly discovered I knew a lot more than I thought. One thing I’ve learned about the wine industry is that despite the enormous variety of wines and producers and regions and styles, it can be quite small. I learned that Cultivar is a project from Jody Harris, who I met a couple years back on a trip to Napa. Jody’s family has been growing grapes for decades in Napa Valley and in 2008, he decided to launch a winery called Caspar Estate, which is the reason I met Jody. On the same trip, I met Jody’s winemaker for Caspar, Julien Fayard. Julien is a great guy who makes excellent wine. So I was pleased, and a little shocked, to learn that the same team is making Cultivar. This, at least, gives one small taste of the great things this team can do. I’m fairly impressed with this wine for being a relatively inexpensive Napa Valley Cabernet. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to find Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley under $30. This one, however, right around $25 is surprisingly pleasant. There are lots of dark chocolate-y flavors in this one ranging from the bitter cocoa nib to cocoa butter. I also tasted something akin to chocolate-covered strawberries, though not quite as sweet. As this wine develops, there is a slight sweet fruit character showing in the form of plum, almost prune, that is also reminiscent of ripe raisins. And finally, there was a hint of baking spice (think nutmeg) and black pepper that made this wine slightly more complex, a nice combination. For the past year, I’ve been studying the wines of Alsace. I enrolled in a class from the French Wine Society so that I could become a Master in Alsatian wine. Whenever participating in something self-study like this, life tends to get in the way, I tend to procrastinate, and so here we are a year later and I’m finally getting ready to take the test. While there’s no tasting portion of this test (it’s all online), I am doing my part to brush up on what the wines of Alsace taste like. I’ve learned a lot about geology and soil types, grape varieties and vineyards locations, producers and styles. One of the producers I’ve learned about is Domaines Schlumberger. And so, I went out searching for some wine. Unfortunately, Alsatian wine is pretty hard to come by around me. Not many stores carry a good selection and so I’m often left yearning for more. I will probably resort to attempting to order wines that aren’t regularly carried in order to broaden my exposure, something any good wine store will do. Domaines Schlumberger is in the category of independent winegrower. What this means is that the company itself manages the vineyards from where they get their grapes to make their wine.The other two categories are négociant, someone who buys grapes from other people in order to make wine, and coopéatives, or multiple companies that operate under one label. Each of these makes up about a third of the total production in Alsace. Within their category or independent winegrowers, Schlumberger is by far the largest. They manage over 300 acres of vineyards throughout Alsace. Most winegrowers control under 100 acres. The wine that we are discussing here is a Pinot Gris. Pinot Gris is a pretty important grape in Alsace. It represents a little over 15% of total production--fourth largest--and is one of the four “noble” varieties. This means that it is recognized as one of the traditional high quality grapes and can be used in Grand Cru bottlings. This, however, is not a Grand Cru. In fact, I haven’t found any Grand Cru Alsace wines in three of the four wine stores I’ve been to in the past six months. Like I said, hard to find. Regardless, it was a nice bottle. It’s a touch off-dry (meaning just a hint of sweetness) and has lots of floral and honey notes that were very pleasant. Personally, I would’ve preferred a bit more acidity to balance out that small amount of sweet, but that’s just me. It had a nice amount of tropical and stone fruits as well like melon, guava, and peach. There’s also a perceptible spice character to this wine that I found intriguing. I tasted savory spices like nutmeg, caraway, and black pepper. For just a “plain” AOC Alsace wine, meaning not Grand Cru, I was pretty impressed. This was very pleasant and I’m glad I’ve been able to find at least a few Alsatian wines to help me in my educational pursuits. |
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