Now Living in the Willamette Valley

I have been away for far too long. Now, I am back to tell you my wine stories.

After eight years in Chicago*, I have moved to Oregon's Willamette Valley. Specifically, I live in Corvallis, which is about 50 miles south of this state's most storied vineyards. If appellations such as the Dundee Hills are quite accessible, my new site-uation gives me the ability to visit more isolated vineyards, some of which are quite small and tucked into folds of the Coast Range foothills, quite removed from the state's primary media center.

Up close, it's good to ask questions such as, What does it mean to be a grape planted at 45 degrees north in this part of the world? If Jory soils are less common than in the northern valley, what does that mean to the winemakers, and what is their conception of terroir? Why is the regional identity what it is? Who are the iconoclasts who are questioning the way things are done?

As I travel up and down the valley, I find that baseline quality is high. It's tough to find confected, fat-fruited wine; it's rare to find an overoaked wine of either color. If I pull over and visit a small producer whom I've never heard of, I'm practically assured of finding a pinot noir that was raised according to the "recipe" of reasonable brix and roughly 25% new barrels. If producers were focused on making big, dark pinots just a few years back, it's my perception that this is less the case – and if my comparison of 2009 to 2006 is accurate, it does seem that producers are dealing better with the hot vintages, with the resulting wines showing more freshness and elegance.

And yet, beyond a happy few, I've yet to find much pinot noir (or pinot gris, etc) that is terroir-expressive. Clone-expressive, yes, but too often not terroir-expressive. I wonder why this is. Is it the relative youth of many of the vines here? How strongly is it related to dry farming? Do most producers inoculate with the same "neutral" packaged yeast? How much is a question of focus? (It's been interesting to ask people about their soils. Too many get a glazed look and say "Jory," which sure makes it seem like they're making it up, or say they just don't know. I find this fascinating.)

Where are the iconoclasts and the mad scientists? A couple of guys are planting tempranillo and syrah in this cool climate. There is the guy who just harvested pinot at 17 degrees brix and who will make an undoubtedly interesting wine from it (I tasted the unfermented grapes and they are bright, alive, delicious, with brown seeds you can crunch through). Beyond these few, and beyond the deep thinkers, I wonder. Winemakers here have learned lot of tough lessons over the years and, as I understand it, the sharing of that knowledge has been invaluable about raising overall quality. But there is a fine line between regional identity and groupthink, and it'll be interesting to find out what ideas hold sway, why they are held, and how they are applied.

I've babbled enough for now. Let me just sum up by saying that it's good to be back.

* Since I no longer live in the Wicker Park neighborhood, does that mean I have to change the blog name?

Random Whites Roundup, February 2011

Now it's time to cover some whites I drank recently.

Ilarria Irouléguy Blanc 2009
This white Irouléguy, a 50/50 blend of organically grown petit manseng and petit courbu, is one reason why I'll be posting more soon-ish on the wines of Southwestern France. It starts with tropical fruit on the nose (guava, passion fruit) and then, intriguingly, it goes all orchardy on the palate, showing crisp white fleshed fruit and grass/straw/herb characteristics. Bee sting acidity is nicely intertwined with minerals and a fleshy yet tightly coiled body that's very dry, even austere. This has superb length and self-confidence, but it's somehow unshowy to boot. I should have bought more! Fun fact: petit courbu is the same grape as Txakoli's hondarribi zuri.

Stéphane Tissot Savagnin Arbois 2004
Hmmm, not entirely sure about this Tissot. I get full fathom five brine, acidity that lashes the tongue like a cat o' nine tails, nuts clattering across the counter, lemon pith — yes, this is forceful rather than delicate, and it showed better on the second night, as it has relaxed somewhat. Still, it's awfully aggressive. I'm not your go-to guy on all things Jura but I like Montbourgeau's more delicate expressions of oxidized whites more, although perhaps this just needed more time (or less, not sure).

Brick House Chardonnay Ribbon Ridge 2008
Oaked New World chardonnays rarely thrill me, but this Puligny-esque effort from Oregon's Brick House almost does due to its bright acidity, well-structured flesh, creamy yet firm texture, and — the most important thing to me — its strong mineral signature, which really brings home the complexity on the finish. I wouldn't say this is lightly oaked, and for my personal tastes (and because it limits food pairing choices considerably) I would like to see less, but on a more objective level this is really very good. Also, it's far from drowning in popcorn butter. I would guess that the oak-derived flavors of nut and vanillin will be still more well-integrated in the coming years, as this has the balance for some aging.

Visiting Evesham Wood, Eola Hills OR

Longtime Evesham Wood followers were likely surprised by the note that owner Russ Raney posted back in July: "After 24 years of a mixture of euphoria and despair (only a little bit of the latter) - Mary & I faced the golden opportunity to retire early... So as of August 2010, Erin & Jordan [Nuccio] will be the new owners of Evesham Wood Winery & Le Puits Sec Vineyard."

Myself, I'd never had the wines before, but I knew their rep as some of the more elegant from Oregon, and so I set up a visit in mid-September. As we (my friends and I) discovered after winding our way up the gravelly drive, one reason you need to set up a visit is because there's no fancy tasting room: just a cellar, a tin shed, a house, and a vineyard. And dang, that vineyard: the basaltic, reddish-brown soil was gorgeous, completely uncompacted, covered in dry grass, with not an irrigation hose in sight. After all, Russ helped found the Deep Roots Coalition, which advocates for non-irrigated grape farming, and the home vineyard, Le Puits Sec, is certified organic.

But it was Erin, as the new owner, who greeted us and began the visit with a brief tour of the vineyard. Erin's a peach (new rule of thumb: the coolest people make the best wine) and he exuded a quiet respect for the soil and the grapes. Here, he said, you can see we missed a weed, but we'd rather plow than spray Roundup. Yes, Russ planted some savagnin. Savagnin? Far out! We also talked about the difficult 2010 vintage (see my previous post for details).

Erin will, for now, keep things the same at Evesham Wood: he will continue to cork bottles by hand, rack the wine twice a year from bunghole, rather than speed things along with a bulldog pup, and inoculate using yeast that Russ isolated from a bottle of Jayer rather than inoculate with a commercial yeast or leaving things to native yeast. On the other hand, Erin will continue to run his own label, Haden Fig, and on these wines he will allow himself to experiment with, for example, native fermentation. Surely these experiments will cross over to the Evesham Wood wines, with time.

Erin was kind enough to have us taste from barrel and bottle both.

2009 Le Puits Sec Pinot Noir (from barrel) - This shows tasty blueberry and good acidity despite the heat of the vintage. It's somewhat simple right now but will won't be released until September, 2011, so it has time to develop.

2009 Temperance Hill (from barrel) - Temperance Hill is a high elevation vineyard in the Eola Hills which survives the hot vintages much better than lower vineyards. I smell a very sweet herb / syrup nose that's really familiar but which I cannot put my finger on. Erin helps: "Some people say wine from this vineyard has a cannabis quality." Ding! That's it! Amazing. The texture is really smooth, and quite fresh and light, and the wine persists on the finish.

2009 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir - This was just released and we tasted it from bottle. It's made all from purchased fruit (mostly from local, Eola-Amity vineyards) and it shows a long, orangey profile. Taken together, the three 2009s demonstrate that while all are made in (mostly) the same way from the same isolated yeast, each is specific.

2008 Le Puits Sec Eola-Amity Hills Pinot Noir - Now this is great stuff; top of the pops here, my friends and I agree. It's a complete wine that shows red and black fruit, lovely acidity, gracious structure, and the kind of length and finesse you look for. My cheeks quivered with acid and fine tannin. It's one of those wines that seems necessary: it's a wine with soul.

2009 Haden Fig Willamette Valley Pinot Noir - This shows a bit of the sweet herb thing, which is present mostly at the sides of my tongue — it's enough to distract me from the midpalate. I also get some peppery spice.

If I were a better writer I'd more ably convey how good it was to be there. The wines were terrific and the vibe was right. It's not just about what's in the bottle, it's about the land, and what people are doing, and how, and why. Obviously Erin's barely into his tenure but I'm betting things will continue to go well at Evesham Wood.

Hens and Chicks In Oregon, Sept 2010

I snapped the photo at right two and a half weeks ago at Evesham Wood's dry-farmed home vineyard, Le Puits Sec. Flowering was extremely late in the Willamette Valley this year thanks to a very cool late spring and the cool conditions of summer further contributed to uneven ripening (see all them green grapes?) and the old "hens and chicks" phenomenon, wherein tiny, undeveloped berries are bunched together with normal-sized berries. I saw this in every WV vineyard I laid eyes on in mid-September.

Still, things might — just might — turn out very nicely this year in Oregon. Lots of folks dropped fruit to direct ripening energy to the remaining grapes. To paraphrase Erin Nuccio of Evesham Wood, "It's like watching money fall to the floor," but that's life at the edge of ripening, and Erin, for one, prefers the cooler vintages that result in lower alcohols and greater nuance. His hope (mine, too) is that the remaining grapes are not just fully developed but show the complexity that can result from a long, cool growing season. Conscientious wineries could, with rigorous selection at the sorting table, turn out very good wines. I'm no winemaker but I don't think this vintage will be as easy on winemakers as was 2008.

Some WV wineries began harvesting last weekend, thanks in part to the modestly warm and gentle weather of the last two weeks. Others are waiting in hopes that the weather holds, meaning not that brix levels will shoot up — it's too cool for that — but that the rain holds off. We'll see: the forecast calls for nice weather over the next two days, then some rain after that. Migrating birds need to cooperate as well.

Keeping Portland Weird: Schöne Schlucht

"Keep Portland Weird," goes the rallying cry, and Willamette Valley winemakers Barnaby and Olga Tuttle are doing their part. Let's count the ways.

1. Barnaby and Olga use indigenous yeasts and neutral oak barrels to make wines of place / somewhereness. Nevertheless, they invoke yet another place by calling their company the Teutonic Wine Company.
2. Their 2009 wines are actually labeled under the Schöne Schlucht name, which is hard to remember and nigh-impossible to pronounce — and this after labeling their wines Honig Schlucht in 2008.
3. While they make pinot noir and riesling, they also make a varietal pinot meunier despite its nonexistent market reputation.
4. They're so Teutonically obsessed that they would have labeled the pinot meunier as schwarzriesling if the authorities would have let them, which of course would have led consumers to believe it was a white wine, particularly as it's housed in a tapered, riesling-suggestive bottle.
5. Barnaby wore an Iron Maiden shirt to a recent tasting even though a Scorpions shirt would have been more Teutonic; somehow this offness was more fitting.

An aside: I visited a well-regarded winery during my recent Oregon visit and found wines that were nicely made, technically correct, balanced, expensive, and dull, dull, dull. Wines dressed in starched clothes. To riff off "The Jilting of Granny Weatherall," the wines were so damn dutiful that I wanted to spank them, right there in the fancy-pants tasting room. You might think that the Tuttles are so intent on making German and Alsatian-styled wines that they'd be hamstrung by dutifulness, but that is not remotely the case. Instead, as I discovered at a tasting at the Storyteller wine shop, their wines may follow the low-alcohol, acid-driven style often found in Germany, but they are specific, unbound, themselves.

The Schöne Schlucht 2009 Willamette Valley Riesling, which hails from the iron- and clay-rich Crow Valley Vineyard near Eugene, would do well in a lineup of like-minded German halbtrockens without aping them too directly. It smells like pie crust and sunny fall days and on the palate nicely balances slightly tart and slightly sweet fruit flavors while also sneaking in a hint of umami up the middle. It has good extract, weight, and length, and it turns dry on the finish, with a limey twist that I associate with slate-grown riesling, although the finish here is mellower than a Mosel. It's an effortlessly substantial and seriously joyful wine from 30 year old self-rooted vines that (no surprise) performs well with spicy food.

I also really liked the 2009 Schöne Schlucht "Bergspitze", which is a pinot noir (spätburgunder) from the 1400 foot elevation Laurel Vineyard in the Chehalem Mountains AVA. I suppose that vineyards 1000 feet lower suffered under the extreme heat in 2009, but not this one: the wine is only 12.5% and it shows a cool, mint or eucalyptus profile; as does the 2009 Schöne Schlucht Willamette Valley Pinot Meunier, which also shows a hint of meatiness. Both wines are very good in their own right and are more specific than many Oregon pinot noirs twice their price (they're in the low to mid-20s).

The 2009s are awfully young and, if very promising, still a bit angular, so I'm particularly glad to have found the more mature 2008 Honig Schlucht Willamette Valley Pinot Meunier at a different Portland shop to bring home to Chicago. The aromas here are infused with cherry, lingonberry, redwood forest, grilled steak, and a drop of Dracula-friendly blood, thanks to the iron-rich soils of the Borgo Pass vineyard near Corvallis. It's even better in my mouth, for it's not only lively and juicy but also has a dead sexy silkiness that's structured by fine tannins and the kind of acidity that makes the wine waft effortlessly over the palate. Finally, it finishes with a tingling, peppery, lightly tart, admirably long mineral sensation. Admittedly, I've never had a German schwarzriesling before, but this wine actually reminds me of a Chinon, particularly Baudry's Les Granges — and yes, it's that good. Alas, with that one bottle, it's all gone... Thank god I have two 2009s for the future.

How do young winemakers hit it out of the ballpark in their first vintage? I'm shaking my head.

A Snapshot of Two Oregon Pinots

How do you prefer to refer to the lowest-priced and most broadly available wines available from a winery? I don't like the term "entry level" as it says more about the relative price point than the wine. "Basic" doesn't work, as it implies mediocrity when that may not be the case, and the terms "domaine" or "estate" only work if the grapes are estate grown and if other estate-grown wines are made from particular parcels or vineyards.

However you term it, such wines should act as a calling card (to borrow Terry Theise's term) and represent the winery well. They should also honestly reflect the vintage and the terroir and not be price-driven into mediocrity. So maybe I should call such wines "standard bearers," or "standard" for short. Unless, of course, they're not the standard. Regardless, I recently decided to check in on a couple such Willamette Valley pinot noirs.

Yamhill Valley Vineyards Oregon Pinot Noir 2007
Ah, 2007, a vintage where growers in the Willamette Valley had to fight rain at harvest and make lighter, lower-alcohol wines, such as this 12.2% pinot. Yamhill's wines are typically dense thanks to their heavy, clay-rich soils, but this one you can file under "tasty bistro quaffer." It's the color of translucent rose petals, light bodied, and it delivers juicy raspberry and cherry flavors with slightly sharp acidity that mellows slightly on night two. There's a pinch of earth here, and the wine gets bonus points for showing notes of Canadian bacon, of all things!

I'm not sure where all the grapes for this wine come from. Yamhill typically bottles a McMinnville AVA-attributed "Estate" wine at this high-teens price point, but this one is labeled "Oregon." In any case, this does represent the vintage and on that merit is fairly successful.

J.K. Carriere Pinot Noir Provocateur Willamette Valley 2006
The Provocateur is J.K. Carriere's lowest-priced pinot noir but is usually made in much smaller quantities than its more expensive big sib, which is simply called "Willamette Valley." Likewise, it's made from grapes purchased throughout the valley, and in 2006 was raised solely in used (primarily thrice-filled) barrels.

The trick in this hot vintage was to avoid making soft, fat, uninteresting wines. Here, winemaker Jim Prosser pulls that trick off. This Provocateur did not show well this time last year, but it's clear that it was going through a sullen and awkward adolescence; it's only now coming into its drinking window, and barely at that. It's now promisingly pale, yet the fruit is still very primary, speaking of black cherry flesh and black cherry skins. There's some red earth and cherry wood smoke on the nose and just a touch of heat, although the heat is not evident on the palate. The balance is much better now compared to last year, the quite dry finish is longer, and complexity is emerging in the form of earth, sandalwood, sweet grapefruit, and herb tones. I like the refreshing acidity, the firm structure, the medium-full texture. The tannins are fine yet slightly raw.

I very much regret that this was my last bottle of the '06 Provocateur — this could become quite elegant — but I at least know now to keep my hands off the '06 WV bottling for at least two years, and preferably longer.

Two Sparklers From Argyle

Dundee Hills producer Argyle makes a range of still wines but they are best known for their sparkling wines. Partly that's because few Oregon producers make sparkling wine, but Argyle's also receive a lot of acclaim of the "why-drink-Champagne-when-at-this-price" type as well as high scores in rags like the Spectre [sic].

The first thing Argyle does after pressing is store the juice at a cold temperature so it "settles" without fermenting. After a few weeks, they then innoculate with a proprietary yeast, achieve at least partial malo, age the fermented juice on its lees in barrique for at least three years, and add what tastes to me like a fairly standard level of dosage. The result, as far as my palate is concerned, is solid, consumer-friendly sparkling wine that is complete and satisfying. The wines are tasty and fairly priced, but while the two bottles I tried each had a story to tell, the story is about the vintage more than the terroir, which seems to be obscured.

2002 Argyle Brut
At Argyle, the vintage decides the blend (all their sparklers are vintage dated) and in 2002 the wine is 75% chardonnay and 25% pinot noir. This verges toward the austere, in a good way, like some Loire brut chenin that I've had. It showed a touch of heat when first opened, but that dissipated, and I got herbs and yeast on the nose. The mousse shows nice texture, and then there are herbs and citrus and pear on the firm, linear, well-structured finish. I was hoping that after 7 years this would show complexity or perhaps a mushroomy aspect, but it was not to be. This was satisfying nevertheless.

2005 Argyle Brut
Here the blend flips to 65% pinot noir and 35% chardonnay. On the nose, subtle hints of yeast march in lockstep with red fruit aromas. The palate is generous but still dry (RS clocks in at 1.2%), with a fine mousse and nice layers of strawberries, apples, pear, and dry stone. The acidity is nicely energetic, and the wine paired well with a peppery, fennel-laced vegetable soup.

I can't decide if I prefer the 2005's more generous texture or the 2002's relative austerity. I'm happy with both. Still, I would have liked to have seen greater depth and more of that Dundee Hills minerality. As I said, the wines are fairly priced at $25, but if I can find deeper and more terroir-expressive Cava and Loire sparklers at a slightly lower price — and I can — I'm in no hurry to return to Argyle's lineup.

The First 2008 Pinots From Oregon

Last year I speculated that 2008 could be an interesting vintage in the Willamette Valley, as the long-range forecast called for a cool and dry summer. It turned out to be just that. In fact, winemakers were concerned that the delayed budbreak and the cool conditions combined would not allow the grapes to ripen properly, particularly if rain hit during harvest.

Not only was there no rain at harvest, but Indian Summer conditions allowed the grapes to ripen evenly and well. Winemakers were ecstatic about the potential quality.

I've now tasted two 2008 Willamette Valley pinots — both of them, coincidentally, made from certified biodynamically grown grapes — and things are indeed looking good, especially as the acids in both these wines are particularly nice. Montinore Estate aims for translucent purity, and if their 2007 was too light and tart, thanks to that challenging and wet vintage, their 2008 Estate Pinot Noir is just right. It's fresh and lively, with really nice acidity, nifty cherry fruit, and a light sprinkling of earth. I dig its vibe. It should deepen over the next year but it's fine to drink now. And at $19 a bottle, I like it even more! (Sidenote: these guys also make an excellent and quite dry gewurtztraminer.)

The 2008 Select Pinot Noir from Brick House Vineyards is really impressive, if painfully young — it's prickly, almost carbonic at first, and this will require some time to settle down. As with the Montinore, I'm really impressed by the quality of the acidity, as it's strong and robust but not brittle or thin. There's good depth to the fruit, and that red Ribbon Ridge earthiness is screamingly pure. I know that "elegant" is one of the most overused words in the wine world, but I can't think of a better one to sum things up. Give it some time so it can let it all hang out. (Sidenote: these guys also make a terrific gamay.)

Two American Rosés

I snapped the photo at right last September at J.K. Carriere's new, to-be-planted vineyard site in Oregon's Chehalem Mountain AVA. It's appropriate for two reasons. One, the weather in Chicago this 4th of July is not unlike the weather seen at right: cool and cloudy. Two, I'm celebrating America's birthday by writing about two dry American rosés from 2008.

"Oh, rosé," you say, contempt welling into your eyeballs, "that's soooo 2006." Kidding. You know that I know that you drink rosé whenever you damn well please. And I know that you know that I drink rosé all year long, except during the darkest winter. If you're reading this blog, you're down with rosé (probably).

American dry rosés often resemble their red counterparts by erring on the side of fruit. I like minerals. I like spice. I like taut acidity. I like fruit, too, but I don't want it to muddle or obscure the other things that I like. Fortunately, I can find what I like.

J.K. Carriere Pinot Noir Glass 2008
Winemaker Jim Prosser sourced the grapes for this native-yeasted, barrel-fermented rosé from three organically or biodynamically farmed vineyards and says he "utiliz[es] lees addition and incorporat[es] Champagne methodologies from 100 years ago to strip color and broaden an earthy mid-palate, similar to a rosé Champagne from that era…without the bubbles."

I've never had a Champagne made prior to the mid-90s, so I can't directly confirm that, but I can tell you that this very pale and very, very dry rosé sings of sweet cherry, musk melon, grapefruit, and floral aromas in the mezzosoprano range. The acidity cuts a tin can like this and the palate shows soft minerals for days, while white pepper waltzes with demure cherry flavors on the long finish, which I totally dig. It's not particularly complex at this time, but it has the acid structure to go there. I have one bottle left, so we'll see...

Renaissance Rosé North Yuba 2008
Whereas J.K. Carriere produces 100% pinot noir rosé year after year from sourced grapes, Renaissance culls from their estate vineyard exclusively and is willing to radically change the composition from year to year. Whereas the 2007 rosé was based primarily on cabernet sauvignon, the 2008 (which, full disclosure, I received as a press sample) is 63% syrah and 37% cabernet sauvignon. But like the Carriere wine, this was vinified from organically-grown grapes, fermented with native yeasts (albeit in steel rather than barrel), and aged for a spell in oak — in this case, for 16 weeks in neutral German oak ovals.

This has the color of a watermelon Jolly Rancher but not its characteristics. Instead, it's a food-worthy rosé that's dry and spicy, with aromas and flavors of dry grassland, cherry, cantaloupe, and pepper. It's structured, its robust acidity is refreshing even after the wine warms to room temperature, and the finish balances fruit and minerals over 30-plus seconds. It's good partner with pasta tossed with leek, onion, and garlic, and damn, I wish I had more of this. Alas, with 2008 being a year of disastrous frost, Renaissance could only summon 57 cases.

An Eyrie's Autumnal Length

2002 is an oft-hyped vintage for the Willamette Valley, but is it even true, and what do people mean when they say it?

I dunno about the first part of the question, as I don't have enough experience with the vintage. I can tell you that I'm skeptical of vintage guides. Many observers rank the warm (err, hot) 2006 vintage in the Willamette Valley considerably higher than the cool 2005 vintage. I, on the other hand, find that the 05s are not only apt to be fresher and more transparent than the forward 06s but also deeper. Even when the fruit in the 2006s isn't slightly cooked, gobs of fruit can smother elegance.

The 2002 vintage was warm and dry but lacked heat spikes, while September rains refreshed the grapes prior to harvest, so the rap on these wines is that they are (or were) both full and structured, with good acidity. True?

The Eyrie Vineyards Willamette Valley Reserve 2002
I of course can't make judgments about the vintage overall from just one wine. Besides, in their pursuit of very quiet elegance the Letts are the exception in Oregon and not the rule. What I can tell you is that this reserve wine, which comes from vines that were at the time 35+ years old, shows a gorgeous autumnal depth that is, yes, full and structured, and I've never had a finer Oregon pinot noir.

As you can see in the above photo, this seven year old is showing brick-to-orange colors at the rim; not shown are the aromas of dried cherries and dried flowers. But there's nothing tired about this wine, and it shows tremendous if quiet energy on the palate. It's downright silky and everything is in harmony, from the graceful acidity to the light earthiness to the dried fruit characteristics. Moreover, the wine shows excellent presence at midpalate, great length, and X factors of elegance and complexity that are difficult to describe but simple are.

Between its autumnal characteristics and the fact that it's drinking so well right now, I'm hesitant to say you can or should hold this for a particular amount of time, although the energetic acidity suggests you can hold for some time. Eric Asimov would be the better guide here, and his relatively recent experience with Eyrie reserves at ages 19 and 28 suggests that holding is hardly a problem.

J.K. Carriere Pinot Noir 2005

I love it when my informed guesses turn out well. Over a year ago I tasted the 2004 vintage of J.K. Carriere's "standard" Willamette Valley Pinot Noir — which is sourced from vineyards up and down the valley — and I was impressed to the point that I bought several bottles of the 2005, the vintage that was available. Until now I'd never actually tasted the 2005, but I can tell you right now that I'm glad I stocked up.

2005 was a genuinely cool vintage and if the vintage trends toward elegance, this wine follows through. Now, I can describe this as aromatic and well-structured, and I can tell you that it serves up a kaleidoscope of rhubarb, cola, cherry, strawberry, orange rind, damp red earth, and mineral characteristics, and I can say that the acidity is prominent and the tannins are just beginning to melt into the wine. But what you really need to know is that this is excellent with all kinds of food, from fresh heirloom tomatoes to a savory pasta, and on the third night open it was still truckin'. It's the kind of wine that gives Oregon pinot a good name.

J.K. Carriere's 2006 Releases

After trodding the dirt on Parrett Mountain, J.K. Carriere winemaker Jim Prosser led us back to the little white barn where he makes his Willamette Valley wines. Now, I started seeing a fair amount of high-end 2006 Oregon pinot on the shelves a year ago, but Prosser prefers to wait longer than most. His early drinker, the $24 Provocateur, was released back in May, and only as of September 21 did Prosser make available his 2006 Willamette Valley Chardonnay and his standard-bearer, the 2006 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir.

Now, 2006 was the second-hottest vintage ever in Oregon and you might expect rich, opulent fruit, for that is what dominates so many 2006 Oregon pinots. This, happily, is more classic, and even downright reserved. As with all Prosser's wines this is built for age and I simply have to reserve judgment; suffice to say that the elements are here and the boysenberry and cherry fruit is nicely balanced with the acidity, the earth notes, and proper (though hardly hard) structure. I'm looking forward to popping this starting three years from now, though it might need still more time.

I'm not so reluctant to judge the Chardonnay. As I wrote yesterday, it's eerily reminiscent of a good village-level white Burgundy, and if this wine will last for (at least) five years, I'm pretty dang enthusiastic about it right now. The wine was whole cluster pressed and cold barrel fermented (using only wild yeast) in neutral oak only — so fear not, my Parkay-phobic friends, this wine will not invoke any naughty scene from Last Tango in Paris. Its fleshy round body is shot through with lovely acidity and a quiet minerality, which gives it focus, while the flavors of fresh pears are accented by brown baking spices. Prosser made but 90 cases of this, so if you want to check it out, do so soon.

Parrett Mountain's Red Red Dirt

You know, one day I'm telling you that I'm off to Oregon and California, and short days later I'm telling you I'm back. It would seem unremarkable, except for the interceding bank failures, financial system collapses, and Sarah Palin interviews. Ominous.

Yet if we are doomed, that is our future, not our present. So it's as good a time as any to celebrate dirt.
Yes, it was a great trip. Between a baby shower, a birthday dinner, and sundry visits with friends and family, I only had so much time for wine. But I made a special, specific visit to the Renaissance Vineyard & Winery in the Sierra Foothills — more about this soon — and prior to that, in the northern reaches of the Willamette Valley, I dropped by J.K. Carriere to check out their just-released 2006 pinot and chardonnay, that latter of which is eerily reminiscent of a really good village-level white Burgundy.

But prior to tasting the wines, we — I, my family, and other admirers of J.K. Carriere's natty wines — went to a 700 foot elevation site on Parrett Mountain to mark the groundbreaking of their forthcoming winery and vineyard.

As my sister's dog Coriander (above) discovered, the red Jory soil is the same as you'll find in the nearby Red Hills of Dundee, and it likewise stains your shoes like makeup. Less typical are the many cobblestones here. Winemaker Jim Prosser remarked that he had considered encouraging the formation of a trout pond, but the site is so well-drained that even after a heavy rain there was no runoff collected in the divot at the base of the slope. It's two to four feet down to bedrock across the 40 acre property.

Five years from now, when our economy will surely be back on track, Jim Prosser will harvest the first of his own grapes. In the meantime, we will muddle through, and Jim will do somewhat better than that with fruit from dry-farmed vineyards as diverse as Temperance Hill, Shea, Momtazi, and Anderson Family.

Off to Oregon and California

To the west coast I go; and what visit would be complete without visiting a few wineries? On Sunday the 21st J.K. Carriere will release their "regular" 2006 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir. Even better, they are celebrating the groundbreaking of their new vineyard site on Parrett Mountain. I will be there to help them break ground.

Later in the week it's off to the Renaissance Vineyard & Winery in the Sierra Foothills. For an idea of what I'll experience there, see the post on Wine Terroirs, complete with many pictures. I'm very excited for my visit in general and I'm looking forward to tasting some new releases. Of course, this is Renaissance, so among their newest releases are a 1992 Riesling Late Harvest, a 1996 Cabernet and their 2002 Granite Crown, which is a blend of syrah and cab.

This post reminds me that I forgot to tell you about the 2000 Renaissance Claret Prestige, which exemplifies what it means to be a living wine.

On day one, strong graphite, cassis, tobacco, lavender, and blackberry jam aromas leap from the glass. But pay attention and you'll also find sage, cumin, and black pepper. It's tannic, yet it has almost bracing acidity, with deep, thick, sweet flavors of blackberry and cassis. Nothing overcooked or jammy here; it's a pure wine with a lot of structure —and yet after all these years, it still needs time.

A lot of time, actually. On day three, the wine's inherent minerality has only begun to emerge, and tons of rich fruit are still in the foreground. Promisingly, a hint of worcestershire joins the purple and black characteristics. Yep, this wine's life is just beginning.

Interestingly, this is a blend of 24% Merlot, 20% Cabernet Franc, 15% Sangiovese, 12% each Malbec and Cabernet Sauvignon, and 6% each Syrah and "miscellaneous" grapes. Not your typical claret, eh? And yet the Claret Prestige does resemble a naturally-made right bank 2000 Bordeaux — or at least make you think it's what one should be like. In any case, it's quite nice with pork in a balsamic reduction.

I'll post a full report upon my return.

Chianti and Cards

I'm a person who dreams about wine even when my palate has been sated. Last night, I lugged home some lamb kofta and poured a few glasses of 2005 Fèlsina Berardenga Chianti Classico, which was on its second night. I rarely buy Chianti — the variability there frightens me, and I'm more of a Piedmont boy in any case — but this is a good one. And though it's scary dark for a Chianti, whatever Fèlsina is using to augment the Sangiovese does not eclipse it, either. It's redolent with black pepper, mint, green pepper, brown earth, and cherry aromas. On the palate, it serves up well-structured sour cherries and mint by the bushel. The acidity is aggressive but it's better integrated with the smooth texture than it was on day one. This has years to go and will probably be best around 2010 to 2012.

Even as the Fèlsina lingered, my thoughts turned to my recently-arrived mixed case of J.K. Carriere Willamette Valley Pinot Noir. Some of these wines, such as the enrapturing "Glass" rosé, I'll be able to enjoy in the coming weeks; and I certainly plan to dive into the 2001 and 2003 Pinots soonish, as these are earlier-drinking, low-acid vintages from Oregon, soft and hot respectively. The rest need time. In some cases, a lot of time.

At bedtime, I pulled out the marketing cards that accompanied the shipment. I couldn't help it. I lulled myself to sleep trying to memorize pH levels, vineyard compositions (all dry-farmed and/or organically grown), and barrel contributions (very little new oak used, if at all). I was, in short, preparing myself for the years ahead when I'm able to actually experience the wines, and I drifted to sleep dreaming of the people I'd be with, the food we would eat, and the wine, J.K. Carriere's wine.

Thanksgiving Wine Plan

I'm a geek, so I get quietly if palpably excited by considering wine options for get-togethers — and Thanksgiving is a Big Daddy of the wine year.

Now, I'm still not sure where or with whom I'll be, which complicates matters, but the debut of the J. K. Carriere Willamette Valley Chardonnay, vintage 2005, is assured a place at my table in any case.

J. K. Carriere has always pushed the line that they're a Pinot-only producer — and fantastic Pinots they are — but it seems that winemaker Jim Prosser plotted the release of this Chardonnay some time ago. The grapes are sourced from the cool, organically- and dry-farmed Temperance Hill vineyard in the Eola Hills. What makes the release particularly exciting is that it is "built in an old-world style... [it's] made for food and exhibits a dominance of savory and mineral over fruit.... [with] high acid and no obvious oak."

Could a white wine, and an American white at that, be more perfectly modeled for Thanksgiving dinner? I will find out in four days.