Finding Florida’s Terroir

Over the last two weeks I have done the unthinkable: I’ve had a good wine experience in the state of Florida.

The state normally reserved for golfing retirees originally from New Jersey has a few bright spots, other than its abundant winter sunshine and famous Cadillac Escalade accidents.

The foremost of these is definitely Bern’s Steakhouse, in Tampa of all places. Before discovering this ridiculously bodacious wine list the only thing Tampa had going for it was a Superbowl victory and a series of summer concerts featuring country artists renowned throughout central Florida.

Despite waiting an hour for a table (we had a reservation but showed up a wee-bit early) and food that is heavily priced yet moderately delicious, the journey is well worth it just for the wine. Being on a winemaker’s budget I went with a 1985 Chambolle-Musigny from a negociant for $60. I would have preferred a premier cru from a small grower, but drinkers can’t be choosers, and an aged Burgundy from the Cote d’Or (and a great vintage none-the-less) shouldn’t be seen for under $200 in a restaurant this side of the Atlantic. The wine was good.

Oh, and just for good measure I ordered a split of a 1980 Cornas for $17, and then we paid that much for a dessert-sized serving of a 1978 Sauternes and a 2000 Tokaji with five puttonyos. I counted them, and there were five.

Alas, my deeply southern journey had to come to an end, and that is happening as I type. Currently I’m flying over some oily-coated seafood just south of the Bayou at 36,059 feet. Before take-off, however, I made a jaunt into a great little wine bar in Fort Lauderdale with the male parental unit known as The Grateful Palate (that’s the bar, not the dad). While the bottle of 1985 La Tâche on the counter had already been consumed, we still had a great experience featuring a nice Brunello, Dolcetto d’Alba, and a crazy-ass South African wine.

This wine, the 2008 Chakalaka, is a seemingly normal Southern Rhone blend save for the inclusion of Souzao. That alone was enough to make my head spin, but the Cointreau house-made ice cream succeeded in popping it like a Touriga Nacional berry under a nude Portuguese man’s foot.

In a few hours I will be back in San Francisco, and back to the daily wine life style. There are going to be some changes to the Terroirists in 2011, one of which won’t be blogging from 36,059 feet again. At this altitude I’m literally high on life, and way too over-the-top as a blogosphere contributor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some famous Virgin America hot tea to consume.

In-N-Out Burger’s Effect on the Spleen

This mini-post is inspired by Sideways.

A couple of weeks ago Jeff brought with him many riches to Santa Rosa, California, the headquarters of Terroirists Sonoma Chapter. In this box included a 2001 Chateau Chasse-Spleen, a formerly Cru Exceptionnel in Bordeaux (that system now being annulled). After waiting painstakingly for two weeks for a special occasion, we realized that when one opens an ’01 Chasse-Spleen, that is the special occasion.

The only question then becomes what to fill our mouths with, and it just so happened that an In-N-Out burger opened up about a mile north of the headquarters last month. We sat through the usual 40 car drive through line, paid our $9.61, and returned to begin the party in our mouths.

The wine showed up to party, too. If not for the lavishly high ceilings and walls adorned with floating frames one could almost feel as if this was Bordeaux itself. I suppose the In-N-Out double doubles and the college football on TV doesn’t help, either. Adding to the French atmosphere, however, is the wine’s acid-driven, old school style.

With just a hint of age and barnyard funk, I once again am taken to a sidewalk cafe with a maroon awning on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées which is overrun by Americans. But they fade away in the background, second to this wine, which tonight is a perfect wine, and one that happens to pair beautifully with a double-double, animal style.

Can’t we all just get along? Probably not.

Every wine is different, even the same wine will taste different on different days – this is probably the greatest thing about the beverage. With Coca-cola or Budweiser one knows what one is getting; it is the mystery of what will be inside that bottle that makes wine so exciting.

Decades ago not much was known about the chemistry contributing to a wine’s taste and smell, but as science has progressed so has our understanding of the chemistry behind the flavor. With the ability to isolate yeast strains much of the guess work has been taken out of winemaking. Now it’s common practice to add yeast nutrient so the fermentation takes place seamlessly, creating fewer “stinky” aromas. This all sounds great, but with every new technology terroir loses its place as the driving force behind a wine and gives way to lab coats.

Santa Ynez Valley

Recently we discovered what causes cork taint in a wine. It’s the presence of a compound known as trichloroanisole or TCA – when this is present in a wine it is undeniably flawed. Nobody wants to drink acidic basement water, which is in effect what the wine becomes. When a wine’s volatile acidity (VA) is high enough, aromas of vinegar or nail polish remover become prevalent, but elevated levels are pleasant before becoming obnoxious, and personal tastes vary on the amount of acceptable VA.

Other than these two flaws (which I would argue VA only is at extremely high levels), there is nothing else commonly found which causes me to deem a wine as flawed. Oxidation could be mentioned, but some wines are purposely oxidized. Brettanomyces is often considered a flaw in the new world, but the yeast and it’s byproducts are commonplace in some famous old world wines, and honestly, I like a little stink in my wine and there’s nothing wrong with that.

It is varying levels of compounds which were inherent to the grapes and the oak as well as those produced by yeast and bacteria which contribute to the uniqueness of a wine. To me all four of these factors combine to create the elusive terroir – but the trend has gone the way of creating predictable character by eliminating the last two factors. Commercial yeast strains may produce pleasant fruity esters, but an important piece of terroir is lost. Similarly, adding nutrient might help avoid a stinky fermentation, but shouldn’t the wine represent the nitrogen levels that are naturally present in the vineyard? A fermentation with native yeast and low nitrogen levels will likely produce higher levels of compounds such as Dimethyl Sulfide (DMS), which can cause aromas of cooked cabbage, canned corn, and Walla Walla terroir.

This particular compound was a subject of controversy last week when Kori of Wine Peeps wrote on her blog about sending a wine from Cayuse, a well known Walla Walla Valley winery, to ETS labs to test for flaws. She claims the results show that Cayuse is inherently flawed, due to higher than normal levels of DMS (312 micrograms per liter). She also notes that the VA was slightly above sensory threshold and the pH was “high” – although neither number was provided.

Walla Walla Valley

Yes, Cayuse wines do have a high pH, as do many red wines produced in Washington. I supposed this means that Christophe Baron could have dumped in a few kilograms of tartaric acid to compensate for the natural result of growing wine grapes in the Walla Walla Valley. And to prevent high levels of DMS he could have added a commercial yeast strain and nutrients to help along the fermentation.

Had Christophe done this I’m sure the wine would still be good, as his vineyards are nothing short of awesome, but they wouldn’t be the same. Cayuse is one of very few Washington (OK, technically Oregon) wineries creating a unique product that gets me excited. To suggest that these wines are flawed because they are different than his neighbors is exactly what I can’t stand about the current state of the wine industry. The numbers don’t matter – the wines are distinctive and many are among the best I’ve ever tasted. I highly doubt that Christophe is too concerned over this accusation, either. It’s unlikely the seven year waiting list for his wines will suddenly crumble – I know I’m not giving up my spot. Does this mean Christophe could declare, “I fought the flaw and the wine won”? That doesn’t work as well as I had hoped.

When the day comes where all wines are treated as chemistry projects the entire industry should be considered flawed, and I’ll start looking for a new career.

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P.S – thanks to Ben Simons of Vinotology for bringing this issue to my attention, and thanks to Ed Thralls of Wine Tonite! for taking my orphan chair. Not my chair, not my problem, that’s what I say.

A Cougar Saves the Day

Some days are not meant for wine drinking. This is a fact which I have a hard time accepting, given that drinking wine is a large piece of my life. Today is one of those days, however.

One would think that finding good wines by the glass would be a relatively simple proposition living in a major wine region. This is true to some extent, but I’ve realized more and more that wine geeks are a rare breed, and we certainly don’t drive the bottom line at most wine bars. Big cities may be an exception, as there are enough wine geeks in New York, for example, to support a few geeky wine establishments. In wine country the tourists are the most important customers, followed by the non-wine industry locals, who prefer to drink local wine, followed by the wine industry locals, who also typically prefer to drink local wine.

Sunset in Sonoma

There’s nothing wrong with local wine – I’m not trying to put it down in any form, but there is a huge variation in quality among local producers in Sonoma County, as with all other wine regions.

The day started at the Green Wine Summit in my backyard in Santa Rosa. This is all great – green wine is in many ways my passion, but the wines served at lunch were a disappointment, as were those served at the reception, and those served at the White House. Sure, I’m glad that more wineries are making a conscious effort to be sustainable in the vineyard and with energy use in the winery, but making completely unnatural additions to a wine is fine? I don’t think so; not only do I not want those additions in my body, but the wine suffers from it. It’s a lose-lose situation.

The night went downhill after that. A good friend of the Terroirists, Jeffrey A.K.A. Jeff, had joined me in this quest for good green wine. For protection of the innocent I won’t mention any names, but our first stop was in Santa Rosa, and the Grenache Blanc, well, it was unremarkable. The cold atmosphere set the stage for the awkwardness to come.

Surely a trip 15 miles north to Healdsburg would cure our wine blues. Tonight, this wasn’t the case. More disappointing wine greeted us to the town, and we were left pondering our existence on this planet. A sadly predictable and unexciting wine list left us wondering if the future would ever brighten again.

A glimmer of hope arrived – I remembered a new place down the street at a fancy hotel, and I had seen a tweet only a night before about a 1945 Rivesaltes by the glass. This had to be the answer – the wine list even had distinctions for biodynamic and organic producers! Alas, there we stood dressed in our usual sexy garb only to be treated as if we did not exist. I’m talking we were in there for 10 minutes and not so much as a, “hi”.

Some days are not made for wine drinking, but luckily at the apartment (also known as Terroirists Sonoma Chapter) a bright spot lay there waiting for us: the 2002 Cougar Crest Walla Walla Valley Syrah. In an otherwise depressing day in the wine industry, the bacon-ness of this wine is compelling, and although it is starting to feel its age, it’s still energetic and worth exploring, much like a cougar. No pun intended.

Is a Shiraz Rebound in the Cards?

What has happened to Australian Shiraz? It’s no secret by now that the wines have fallen out of favor with the American populace, but perhaps it will make a comeback? There have been many articles lately written on why Syrah doesn’t sell; particularly that which is made in California. To get one thing straight: Syrah and Shiraz are the same grape – an American Syrah can be labeled as Shiraz, and usually the cheap ones are.

Only a decade ago Aussie Shiraz was on fire; everyone including Robert Parker was in love with the over-the-top decadence the wines tend to deliver. Now it’s become a synonym of uncool up there with the likes of NASCAR and the Motorola Razr. Shiraz, what happened to thee?

Steak, Shiraz, Baseball

This afternoon I was perusing the isles of Santa Rosa’s great wine store, the Bottle Barn, looking for a Shiraz to enjoy with coffee encrusted fillet mignon and game 3 of the World Series. It occurred to me that there are still loads of $40-$90 Shiraz bottles, although some of them seem to have gathered some dust. While this seems pricey for Shiraz, the highest end Australian wines I’ve had (Torbreck “Les Amis” and Molly Dooker “The Velvet Glove”) certainly pack a punch which is hard to find in any other wine.

These high-end, bodacious Shirazes definitely fall into the hedonistic, borderline dessert wine, fruit bomb category, which is pretty much exclusive to Australia. Shiraz tends to be a supple wine: that is, one with high alcohol, low tannins, and low acid (high pH). In some ways this is what the American palate wants, and Merlot seems to have filled this market, but Shiraz is often the more supple of the two. Why then has it fallen so far?

I think the answer is overproduction. Scores of wineries starting bottling gobs of Shiraz after the wine caught fire, and with prices in the $5-$10 range the wine picked up a cheap image. Nevermind that some great low yield, old vine versions were coming out of the Barossa Valley and McLaren Vale, the wine was already written off by wine drinkers. Whether or not this problem is to blame for Syrah is debatable. As Steve Heimoff quotes, “…Syrah has been hurt by Aussie Shiraz’s cheap image, which may be partly true, but that assumes people know that Shiraz is Syrah.”

This brings me to the wine I chose for tonight: the 2007 Jim Barry “The Lodge Hill” Shiraz from the Clare Valley. I chose this wine because it was the only Shiraz in the under $30 or so range which noted a single vineyard source. Not surprisingly, it tastes much like every other Australian Shiraz I’ve ever had. It’s a nice fruit-forward wine, but as far as terroir is concerned – it really doesn’t seem like it makes a difference what vineyard(s) the wines come from; they just taste like Shiraz.

Maybe it’s no coincidence that Australia is perhaps the most technologically advanced country as far as wine production. A growing wave of winemakers are more open to experimentation and old world techniques, but I’ve yet to encounter a wine from the country which really struck me as “terroir-driven”. Maybe fruit bombs are their terroir, or maybe there’s a revolution looming, and maybe that revolution will bring back Shiraz.