QOTD, March 12

Jim Budd on the insane proposal to limit Appellation Controllee Touraine to only sauvignon blanc:

Sauvignon Blanc is popular now but a SOS (Sod off Sauvignon) movement may soon appear!

I'd like to become a charter member. Where do I sign up?

Oscar Buzz

I'm not sure why I'm watching the Oscars tonight — I don't like Steve Martin and several winners are practically preordained — but I nonetheless popped the cork on the Jean Lallement Grand Cru Brut green label (disgorged April 21, 2009) to help us along. Such a great wine, such great texture. It's like I'm biting into the crunchy texture and flavors of orchard fruits and honeycomb to release the plush texture of cream, nuts, and bread crumbs toasted in butter. It's also subtle, detailed, delicate, refracting herbs and chalky soil. All told, it's vivacious and totally alive; far more alive than I expect Steve Martin to be...

Vajra's 2007 Dolcetto d'Alba Coste & Fossati

When I first got into wine, and when I first found out about the reds from the Piedmont, I drank more barbera than I did dolcetto. And why wouldn't I? The neophyte follows the expert, and check out what the eminently reasonable Robinson and Johnson say in The World Atlas of Wine: "Barbera is now Piemonte's second most glamorous red grape... Piemonte's third red grape is Dolcetto." The sentiment is repeated more or less strongly in every wine book I've read. All such authors go on to praise dolcetto, but the hierarchy is clear, and as the usually-reasonable price points for the wines are usually not so different, why wouldn't have I opted for what should be the better wine?

The hierarchy, I found out, is meaningless to me, for I've experienced terrific wines made from both grapes. I value good barberas for their acidity and their peppery spice notes, and I value good dolcettos for their sweet fruit, their slightly bitter citric qualities, and the way they're apt to convey dusty earth notes. It's a matter of what I'm in the mood for and what I'm eating. And all things being equal, I find that dolcettos are more flexible at the table. The better examples hit all the marks: a pinch of earth, just enough tannic structure, lovely but soft acidity, refreshing bitterness, and plush yet firm fruit, the way a black plum or black cherry is plush yet firm. So I opt for Piedmont dolcetto a bit more frequently than I opt for Piedmont barbera. Sorry, Jancis!

Still, as much as I've grown to appreciate dolcettos from the Piedmont, I wasn't quite prepared for the 2007 G.D. Vajra Dolcetto d'Alba Coste & Fossati. At $35 this is far more expensive than any dolcetto I've had but it's also hands down the best. As the name implies, the grapes come from two vineyards in Barolo proper. This, my friends, is respect, respect for a grape that doesn't have to be third-tier. The soil in both vineyards is Tortonian, and from what I've read it's thanks to these calcareous marls this wine is indeed open and aromatic (the harder sandstone soils in the eastern part of Barolo are less friendly to early wines).

The Vajra shows depth and beautiful structure. Gorgeous, dusty boysenberry aromas waft from the glass. As for the palate, when McDuff had Vajra's 2006 Lange Nebbiolo, he noted the wine's "firm grip and slightly chalky tannins wrapped around a core of bright red fruit." Dolcetto is not nebbiolo, and I think the Dolcetto d'Alba comes from different vineyards, but substitute blue fruit for red and this description nails this to a T.

Dolcetto's modest tannins help it play well with substantial fishes, and the multilayered, elegant Vajra was great with a slab of sable that I pan seared and topped with shallots sauteed in a balsamic reduction. The wine's acidity cut through the fish's oily texture and the tannins were firm yet delicate enough to aptly frame the fish's sweet, fleshy meat. Meanwhile, the barely-sweet fruit played well with the reduction, while the earthy notes parried nicely with the fish's saltwater notes. I'm pretty sure this would also play well with roasted pork, mushroom risotto, pasta with tomato sauce, toasted polenta...

Winter Releases from Renaissance

Renaissance makes some of the most distinctive wines in the US as well as some of the best, and as I've written before, their terroir's signature is carved into the wines, be they red or white, in stone and spice. And yet the more I come to know Renaissance and its wines, the more I've come to learn that they will in various ways surprise me, as do their latest releases (which, disclosure, I received as a press sample).

Renaissance Chardonnay 2006
What, Renaissance makes a varietal chardonnay? Since when? And not only is this a chardonnay, it's also the most mainstream dry white Renaissance I've tasted. Not unlike many fine California chardonnays, it was aged for 9 months in a mix of new and used oak barrels, which contributes to the aromas of salted butter, toast, flowers, and tropical fruits that dominate the nose.

But before you think, "Renaissance sells out!" know that this limited production (76 case), estate grown wine was fermented solely with native yeasts and minimally sulfured. It's fine, fresh, and lively on the palate, with robust acidity, cool orchard fruit tones, and nice structure — it's not at all blowsy or fat (this clocks in at 13.6% abv and a pH of 3.3). As it warms in the glass, the cool spice and herb tones inherent in all Renaissance wines begins to emerge — albeit to a lesser degree than in, say, their Roussanne — and the long finish is enlivened by the zippy minerality. It's definitely a top-of-class California chardonnay, and it stayed very fresh and alive over three nights of tasting.

Renaissance Sauvignon Blanc Late Harvest 1992
This new release, a spicy dessert wine, is 17 years old. The nose is rich with aromas of apricots caramelized in brown sugar. It's clean and silky in the mouth, not heavy or sticky, and the robust acidity helps it stand up on the palate. Straightforward flavors of pears poached in ginger hit the mid and back palate immediately; an initial impression of modest viscosity then ebbs quickly, leaving a light but warm glow on the finish for some time. This isn't as complex or as interesting as the drier, more recently made late harvest wines that Renaissance releases, but twist my arm and I'll drink this with a pear tart.

Renaissance Cabernet Sauvignon Première Cuvée 1998
This is a fascinating wine. At the first pop of the cork this smells just like a Renaissance cabernet, with deep aromas of black currant and worcestershire, but on the palate it drinks almost like a young Barbaresco, very tannic yet somehow light. The rough edges abate somewhat with just a bit of air and the palate deepens with flavors to match the aromas. On night two, the flavor of cassis comes to the fore and the acidity is more prominent, too, although the weight has dropped and the finish is slightly thin. Black cherry and black pepper flavors come to the fore on the third night — it's a living wine, ever changing — and if the finish is still a bit short, the wine seems a touch more focused: the tannins no longer have a sweet quality, the palate is silkier and just a touch more substantive than it was the previous night, and dried herbs show up on the finish. There's plenty of structure and acidity in this baby (pH is 3.4) so while it's perfectly fine to open this now, there's no need to rush. 82% cab sauv, 7% merlot, 6% cab franc, 5% malbec.

By the by, I recently drank a bottle of the 2007 Carte d'Or white Bordeaux blend, which I last drank a year ago, and it's showing brilliantly. The melon fruit is luscious, generous, and layered with crushed white stone and gingery spice, and it was a great with the smoky, tangy, earthy flavors of middle eastern cuisine. I can't imagine anything pairing better with the smoky, umami flavors of middle eastern cuisine than any dry white from Renaissance; but now that I think about it, maybe I should consider a good cru Beaujolais...

Anaba's Excellent Rhone(ish) Blend

I continue my quest to track down balanced, complex, traditionally-proportioned, terroir-expressive New World wines, and in that context (or in any other context, really) I'm very happy to have come across the 2007 Anaba Coriol Red Sonoma County.

Made from 38% grenache, 27% mourvedre, 25% petite sirah, and 10% counoise, this Chateauneuf / Provencal-ish blend is rich and spicy, but it's also nicely proportioned, refreshing, and detailed. The nose shows concentrated dark fruit, dried herbs, black pepper, and a hint of citrus peel. I'm extremely pleased by its balance and presence at midpalate and surprised by just how much lift this has. It does show a touch of alcoholic heat, but only a touch, so that's but a small ding. This has the acidity and the balance to age nicely at least in the short term, and possibly longer.

I want to underscore the great lift this wine has, for as it turns out, the wine was aged for 21 months in 50% new French oak barrels. Winemaker Jennifer Marion must know what she's doing, for the wine is not at all glossy or laden with the cocoa or vanilla characteristics I typically find in wines that have this level of new oak. Instead, the nicely integrated herb, pepper, and citrus characteristics shine through.

I can't say that this is terroir-expressive per se, as it's sourced from a range of vineyards — the grenache was sourced from the Landa Vineyard just east of Healdsburg, which is a warm site, while the other grapes were sourced from cooler vineyards in the northwest part of Sonoma. On the other hand, I can say that the wine is just plain expressive and that it delivers balance, complexity, and plenty of character for about $30, which by artisan California winery standards seems pretty darn good to me.

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.