Spring Greening

Spring is Marching in, with gusty winds and erratic temperature shifts and enough sun to herald the coming of white wine season. Global warming is freaky, and it is going to play pure HELL with winemaking. That’s my prediction, anyway. A few degrees hotter, on average, and the polar bears drown. Every last one of them. Then the grapes ripen unevenly. THAT, my friends, is Hell on Earth.*

Predictions of Armageddon doubtless are based on knowledge of humanity’s penchant for self-destruction. It’s all quite depressing. But perhaps I’m just feeling the effects of a sorrowful and challenging time in my own life. . .

Must be time to drink! And as I was just saying to my compadre Laura, white wines offer a hell of a lot of value, especially compared to reds. At a recent dinner, Laurie Lou contributed a delectable Benton-Lane Pinot Gris, the 2005 I think, or perhaps the 2006. Normally, I think of Pinot Grigios (the Italian name for the same grape) as light and relatively non-descript; summer sippers, and not much more. But shake yourself loose of the Santa Margherita mass advertising, and go get yourself a Benton-Lane PG!

The Benton-Lane Pinot Gris had nice structure and more body than I’m accustomed to with a Pinot Gris – and this is a good thing! It put me in mind of the New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs, with its citrusy nose – what the winemaker calls “floral, pear, and white peach aromas.” Full of flavor and fragrance, pale in color, this dandy sipper is crisp and fruity, with a long, clean finish. It’s recommended with seafood and creamy pasta dishes, but it went just swell with our Mediterranean cuisine.

From Willamette Valley, Oregon, the Benton-Lane retails for $17 and drinks like it costs much more. What I find interesting is that Pinot Gris/Grigio is a natural mutation of the Pinot Noir grape. Apparently the Oregon climate is similar to that of Alasace, Italy and Germany, the other regions that have success with this mutated grape, which prefers colder temperatures – temperate summers and cool autumns (*see gloomy prognostication, above).

Another wonderful white I was lucky enough to try last month was the 2004 Cambria Chardonnay Katherine’s Vineyard, in the Santa Maria Valley of northern Santa Barbara County, near the Pacific. Like the Benton-Lane PG, this Chardonnay is medium-bodied, with a citrusy bouquet, and has a similar price. It’s a remarkably consistent wine, good year after year. It’s packed full of tropical flavors, and I like the oak and vanilla it exhibits. Yum! It’s lusher than the Pinot Gris, but like it is an ideal expression of the vineyard’s climate and growing conditions. Maritime influence, gravelly soil, extended growing season – all of this matters, apparently.

What else matters is that this wine is named for the proprietor’s eldest daughter. You don’t just slap your daughter’s name on something mediocre, not if you’re a self-respecting winemaker. Naturally, that means meticulous care. Quoting from the winery, “leaf thinning in early summer allows more sunlight to reach the clusters, facilitating even ripening and development of concentrated flavors.” Also “limited irrigation techniques and green harvesting” (whatever that means), along with fermentation in French oak barrels, and aging sur lies for eight months before bottling.

We appreciate the painstaking attention to quality, Katherine. Your pa has done you proud.

The Zen of Zin

Pity the fool who falls in love with Zin. Big, bold, peppery fruit-bomb Zin has a seductive quality that is irresistible to some of us. And once seduced, we are doomed to disappointment time and again. But not always. Because there’s always Seghesio.

That winery’s workhorse, the bluecap Zinfandel from Seghesio, first charmed us at a birthday dinner at Pot Pie. Or perhaps it was the luscious Old Vines Zin, since I’d swear it had a RED cap. In either case, it was love at first slurp, and we greedily grabbed the bluecap when we spotted it at Costco – where it retails for less than $17, when even at the vineyard itself it runs $20, as it does in most wine shops. The 2002 and the 2003 bluecap are completely pleasurable; the 2004, a little less so. But just a little. Icons of berry, avatars of jamminess: That’s what they are.

There are many Zins in the $15 to $20 range, and quite a few above and below. So far, I’ve yet to find one under $15 that’s worth the price. I tried the Alderbrook, $10, and the Rancho Zabaco Sonoma Heritage, about $12; both were given superior ratings by wine “experts,” experts who clearly have palates distinctly different from my own.

In fact, I can’t recall anything to say about these wines, other than that they were not rich and peppery; were most emphatically not bursting with deep, dark, delicious flavor, which HELLO! is the point of Zins. For me, at any rate. I like the intense, full-bodied expression of Zinfandels; heavy and complex, elegant, high acidity. Not the weaker-sister style of Zin that apparently appeals to some drinkers for some reason.

In the $20 to $30 range, the Elyse Zinfandel ((2004, Korte Ranch, Napa Valley) held great promise, and a promising nose. Just LISTEN to these tasting notes from Robert Parker: “Elyse has been fashioning fabulous Zinfandels over recent years and this 2004 is among the finest of the vintage. The outrageously superb, dark ruby/purple-hued 2004 Zinfandel Korte Ranch Vineyard (93% Zinfandel and 7% Petite Sirah) boasts creme de cassis, blackberry, raspberry, and sappy cherry-like characteristics. This full-bodied, full-throttle, dense, concentrated Zin is remarkably well-balanced for its potency and flavor depth.”

Is it any wonder we uncorked Elyse with great anticipation? But Lisa and I were both a bit crestfallen. The wine, while not exactly flabby, didn’t have the structure or spicy notes we craved. Too much plum, not enough berries. Sigh. At 94 points and $26, we expected more. More outrageous superb-ness.

Zin is, or was, considered the “wine of the people.” Meaning peasants, I suppose. Primitives. Rough-edged louts who didn’t have the refinement to grace their tables with high and haughty Cabernets. (Which must be why Italy’s genetic twin to Zin is known as Primitivo. Zinfandel has also been identified as a clone of the Croatian variety known as Crljenak, which certainly sounds like a peasant’s name.)

Well, THIS peasant is here to tell you that, while Cabs can be lovely, they are more often overpriced, particularly those from California. And high-end Napa Valley Cab makers have no shame, retailing their bottles for $70, $100, and MORE, even when they rate in the 86-89-point range. Which they often do. I’d rather spend $20, and drink a tasty 88-point Zinfandel.

Good Zins I’ve tasted in the past year include Seven Deadly Zins, Sin Zin, and just about any Zin from Seghesio (although we weren’t wowed by the 2004 Passalaqua in last month’s shipment from Seghesio. The Home Ranch, even the Cortina, were better).

Affordable Zins I hope to try soon include the myriad zinny offerings from Rosenblum, whose upper-end stuff gets glowing reviews (Rockpile comes to mind). Also the Cline and Bogle Old Vines – and I plan to seek out the latest Old Vines from St. Francis, since I remember the 2002 VERY fondly.