July 22nd, 2010

Growing Portuguese Grapes in Monterey County

2009 Bonny Doon Vinho Grinho

I like Portuguese wine.

I like Randall Grahm.

So it’s no surprise that I like this wine. I don’t love it, not yet, but there’s so much to like about it, I’m still pretty excited.

By now, chances are you know the tale. Maybe you’ve even heard me tell it. The tale of the Rhône Ranger, Randall Grahm, who twenty-some odd years ago starting really going to town growing Rhône varieties in California, which had been dominated by the noble species of Bordeaux and Burgundy to that point.

But now, everybody’s growing grenache and syrah. OK, maybe not everybody, but still, the two grapes—especially syrah—are incredibly easy to find in California wine now. Randall doesn’t seem the type to do much laurels-resting, so where’s he headed next?

Portugal.

I don’t know of anyone in California—and please, please correct me if I’m wrong—making wine that is over 50% loureiro. Besides Bonny Doon, that is.

At 56% loureiro and 44% alvarinho (I use albariño’s Portuguese spelling here for obvious reasons), Bonny Doon’s Vinho Grinho (VEEN-yo GREEN-yo) is California’s first attempt1 at Portugal’s venerable Vinho Verde white wine. The grapes hail from BD’s Ca’ del Solo estate vineyards in Monterey County.

And it’s pretty damn good. It will kind of depend on what you’re looking for in a white, of course, but this was something I enjoyed, and my wife actually kind of raved about.

The wine is almost clear, light yellow in the glass. Kind of sauv blancish if you’ve never seen a Vinho Verde before, and kind of Vinho Verdesque if you have. The nose features pine and green herbs, but not heavy, very light in the air.

The wine is actually a bit fuller-bodied than I expected, but I would still characterize it as “light-to-medium” bodied. Minty herbs that reflect the aromas on the nose are greeted by a pleasant green apple note on the palate. The wine is not particularly acidic, and finishes pretty short, but it’s not meant to be big or bombastic.

I hope this is an example of things to come for California winemaking, just as Randall’s adoption of the south of France was in the 1980s. The world could use more wine from Portuguese grapes.

Verdict: B

2009 Bonny Doon Vinho Grinho

2009 Bonny Doon Vinho Grinho

Footnotes

  1. again, that I know of
July 20th, 2010

The Real Meaning of “Value”

2009 Silver Birch Sauvignon Blanc (Octavin)

I just don’t get it.

A few people I really like and respect have reviewed this wine ahead of me. Jason over at Jason’s Wine Blog (who, it should be noted, specializes in reviewing wine at the lower end of the price spectrum), while not formally giving the 2009 Silver Birch in the bladder inside the octagonal cardboard the once-over, did mention it in a recent post as “…impressive and… a crowd favorite.

A couple of my homeboys (as it were), including fellow Trés Amigo Josh Wade at Drink Nectar wrote this guy up, and gave it a 3 out of 5, which I translate in my little head as something resembling an 80 on the Robert Parker point scale. Josh mentions specifically that this is a value buy.

The same score was given out by Those Who Are The Best New Wine Blog Twentyten at Swirl, Smell, Slurp, where both She and He gave, individually, a score of 3 out of 5. They refer to the wine as “good” after calling food They consumed “great,” so I have to consider that a less-than-rousing endorsement of the wine—but an endorsement nonetheless.

Liking this a bit more is my buddy and fellow fantasy baseballer Josh Sweeney at wine(explored). With his forgiveness, I am going to include here his entire review verbatim, including his 7 out of 10 (which, in my little messed up world, is something like an 85 on Parker’s scale):

2009 Silver Birch Sauvignon Blanc: 7/10. This is a classic, aggressive, beautifully flavored Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. I actually had a lot of trouble keeping my pace with this box. It drank so well for so long, I actually finished it a week early. If you can get the 2009 before we hit 2011, I highly, highly recommend it for anyone who likes a crisp, acidic Sauv Blanc.

Josh likes.

So, the consensus seems to be that this is average-to-good wine, that when coupled with its price (around $24 for a 3L box, or about $6 per bottle-equivalent) is recommended pretty much across the board by my blogging contemporaries.

I don’t fucking see it.

This is plonk. This is nigh-undrinkable, one-note, over-acidic plonk, and I can’t consider wine like that a “value” at any price, including free (which, because this was sent to me by someone involved in the promotion of this product, it was).

I think the wine blog whateversphere has found itself in the dangerous territory of trying to redefine “value.” High value is not necessarily correlated with low price.

The Chateâu d’Yquem I reviewed last week, regardless of how good it is (and oh my GOD it is good) cannot be considered a “value.” It costs somewhere in the neighborhood of $300-$400 per bottle-equivalent (and is much more common in the 375ml half-bottle). But that’s not why. It can’t be considered a “value” because that price point is basically the worldwide peak for Sauternes.

However, the $30 Napa cult wine The Prisoner is absolutely a value. It drinks like a $60-$80 bottle. Many people would argue that wine that costs $30 (or $20, or some other arbitrary number) cannot be considered “value” wine, because it is out of some people’s price range.

To me, this is a bastardization of the concept of “value,” and leads to situations like this: crap wine given more than its due simply because it costs less than a child’s ticket to the cinema.

So here are my notes.

The wine looks like a sauv blanc, very light yellow-to-clear in the glass. On the nose is a light alcohol sting (but not terrible), grapefruit, and some grass.

The palate, however, is all one note. This tastes like grapefruit juice. Almost sour, but really, it’s the high, unbalanced acidity here that is making me think “underripe grapefruit.” Can’t blame the grapefruit for that. Did I mention this tastes like grapefruit juice?

I can’t call that a value, personally. And I can’t recommend this wine.

Verdict: C-

P.S., since I compared everyone’s else’s score to the RMPJOHPS (Robert M. Parker Jr. One Hundred Point Scale), I will tell you that in my little world—where we are right now—a C- is something in the high 60s. Definitely under 70 points.

P.P.S., a 12-pack of 32oz bottles of Ocean Spray white grapefruit juice will run you about $35. That’s around $2.30 per 750ml. Just sayin’.

(full disclosure: this wine was received as a press sample. No way I’d pay for this.)

2009 Silver Birch Sauvignon Blanc

2009 Silver Birch Sauvignon Blanc

June 15th, 2010

Drink Pink

2009 Quivira Grenache Rosé

2009 Quivira Grenace Rosé

Summer summer summer… time.

Hot days here in California lead to a desire for lighter, crisper wines that taste good (and maybe that just “make sense”) served at a bit below room temperature—chilled, even. Aromatic whites, imported blancs, maybe a bubble here and there. And, of course: rosés.

I remember (it wasn’t that long ago) when I thought that the end-all be-all of rosé was the damnable White Zinfandel, as proffered by outfits like Sutter Home and Franzia. How truly naïve I was.

I’ve since had some really fantastic rosés, both still and sparkling. Even a few I haven’t written about.

While this wine does not quite stack up to the likes of Pithy’s Sangiovese Rosé, it is still mighty tasty. It’s also completely organic and biodynamic, so depending on your outlook, add or subtract the appropriate points.

This rosé is 90% grenache, 10% mourvèdre, a pink take on the southern Rhône Valley. It’s a tawny pink in the glass, with this earthy hint of tan that definitely makes it stand apart from the abominable white zinfandel.

On the nose is a mix of tropical fruits—passion fruit, grapefruit, and a tiny tiny hint of kiwi—mixed with a more down-home apricot note. The wine is medium bodied, and the tropical notes carry through from the nose to the palate. There’s an interesting savoriness on the palate as well, something I found difficult to place, but that I completely blame on the mourvèdre.

The 2009 Quivira Grenache Rosé is a tasty summer wine that won’t knock your socks off, but will satisfy your thirst.

Verdict: B-

June 9th, 2010

Amazing Funky Stank Juice

2009 NPA Sauvignon Blanc

2009 NPA Sauvignon Blanc

Those words in the title, if you didn’t realize, are meant with love. Sometimes descriptors in wine reviews seem off-putting at first, but what I mean by funky stank juice is as high a complement as that could possibly be.

The NPA, or Natural Process Alliance, is a Santa Rosa-based winery that focuses on “thinking downstream.” They try to do as little to the wine as possible, and upset the natural process of the winemaking as little as possible. So this sauvignon blanc, which is (among other things) unfiltered, comes off as very, very different from what you’re used to.

But damn if these vine-hugging hippies haven’t figured something out. This juice is legit.

The very first thing you’ll notice, assuming you pour your NPA Sauv Blanc for yourself (or see someone do so), is the container. No glass, no box; the NPA houses all their wine in 750ml stainless steel Klean Kanteen bottles. Next, the wine looks very different from your usual sauv blanc: it’s cloudy, and a yellow-green in color.

When I first sniffed this wine, I had to back up off of it and set my cup down, if you know what I mean.1 The nose is a mélange of the most amazing ripe citrus and tropical fruits: melon, pineapple, nectarine, and passion fruit. It’s really quite something. You could bottle this scent and sell it at Tommy Bahama for, like, a grip of cash.

The NPA Sauv Blanc is full-bodied, which I don’t find often in this usually-lighter variety. On the palate you pick up notes of peach, grass, and nectarine. The wine’s alcohol content is low for California (12.8%), and it’s refreshing in a way not unlike Kern’s fruit nectars are.

NPA wine is extremely hard to get ahold of right now, but you can check out their website to see what your chances are of getting ahold of this funky stank juice.

I recommend you do.

Verdict: A-

(photo: Courtesy Flickr user linecook / CC BY-NC)

Footnotes

  1. Cf.
June 8th, 2010

A Different Kind of Pink Wine

2009 Pithy Little Wine Company Sangiovese Rosé

Pink wine. And a skull.

I’m starting to really like rosés. I think it started with sparkling rosé, which I pretty early on took to have more complexity—and, well, oomph—than blanc de blancs and blanc de noirs sparkling. Part of me is still the macho guy who isn’t 100% comfortable drinking a pink wine, but some of them are just so damn good, that it doesn’t matter.

Take this sangiovese rosé, for instance. Made from sangio grapes grown in the French Camp Vineyard in the Paso Robles AVA, it is a rosé unto itself.

First off, the wine isn’t particularly pink; it’s more of an orange, or a “pale red.” I know what you’re saying to yourself—“pale red” is pink, Steve!—and really, you’re not wrong. It just doesn’t really look pink in the glass, hence the distinction—even if it is silly, and even if it isn’t really accurate—of calling it “pale red.”

The nose on this wine just screams “summer!” It features notes of bright strawberry, apricot, and peach. The wine is light bodied, crisp and refreshing, would be even moreso in a deep chill I think. The dominant notes on the palate are peach and strawberry.

The wine isn’t incredibly complex or anything. It’s not a blow-you-away wine. What it is, is incredibly delicious. Do like I did, get over your aversion to pink wine (assuming you have one), and give this Central Coaster a shot. It’s perfect for a hot summer day.

Verdict: B+

(photo: Not of the actual Pithy Sangio Rosé, I just thought it was an awesome picture of a pink wine. Courtesy Flickr user Deannster / CC BY-NC-ND)

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