InClined
Dam’ I like Spann!
Vineyards, that is. Great wines. Sonoma sippers.
I really enjoyed the 2006 Spann Chardonnay-Viognier ($20), rich and tasty and a favorite at Lisa's birthday bash; and I was all over the 2005 Merlot ($25) once I tasted it. Lovely! (Also hard to come by.) But NO, I missed the Spann tastings both at Cellar Rat and The Wine Bar. I need to blame somebody, or something, for this, but an easy target escapes me. At the moment.
Right about the time I was coming out of my sulk over missing the Spann tastings, the Rat threw me a bone: a Cline lineup that included single-vineyard, upper-level Zins I’d never before tasted. Harrumph. I dragged my petulant butt (and partner) downtown for some quick sipping before an engagement.
I confess I tend to overlook the Cline wines, even as I’ve enjoyed their ubiquitous $10-range offerings. The latest Oakley Five Reds is a sour-cherry, lip-smacking blend of Merlot, Barbera, Cab Franc, Mourvedre and another varietal whose name escapes me; it’s funky, and I like it even though the current blend lacks the usual Zin. I also think the Red Truck is an all-round good camping wine. But Cline Zinfandels? Eh.
Ah, dear sipper, this is what tastings are FOR. As expected, I was so-so in my reactions to Cline’s California Viognier and everyday inexpensive Zin. I liked the Cashmere a bit more; or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I ADMIRE the Cashmere, a GSM that is pleasant – and philanthropic: Profits from Cashmere support breast cancer research efforts.
Swirling and sniffing at the rest of the Cline wares, I found I liked the Sonoma Coast Zin ($20) well enough, and I expected to like both the Bridgehead and the Big Break Zins, given what I’d read about them.
The Bridgehead? Not so much. I did like the Big Break, but my clear favorite of the tasting was the Live Oak Zin from Contra Costa County. It had more going on than the others – berries and spice, sure, but it also seemed both bigger and more nuanced than its Cline companions. It’s grown on the three acres of Cline’s Live Oak block, where they dry-farm the head-pruned vines. (And no, I don’t know what that means. I suspect it has something to do with the winemaker saying, “To hell with irrigation!” as he slashes through the vineyard with a mean pair of clippers. I don’t know what possesses someone to do that, but I certainly applaud the result.)
Wait, did I say the Live Oak was my favorite? Well yes. . . and no. It was my favorite ZIN of the tasting, and after all, it’s the siren call of Zin that got me tramping downtown right before a dinner date at Pot Pie. But. The most interesting, and delicious, of the Clines was the 2006 Small Berry Mourvedre. I can’t recall whether I’ve ever had Mourvedre straight up rather than as a GSM component – and this was yummy. Double yummy, in fact.
Why "Small Berry"? Because the vines are old and tired and can only kick out wee berries, apparently. This does not bode well for future bottlings of this winning wine, and may explain why it costs $38. Ouch. If I want THAT sort of punishment, I generally jump on the Seghesio web site.
Instead, we took home the Live Oak. I’m still thinking fondly of those eensy-weensy Mourvedre berries, though.
Vineyards, that is. Great wines. Sonoma sippers.
I really enjoyed the 2006 Spann Chardonnay-Viognier ($20), rich and tasty and a favorite at Lisa's birthday bash; and I was all over the 2005 Merlot ($25) once I tasted it. Lovely! (Also hard to come by.) But NO, I missed the Spann tastings both at Cellar Rat and The Wine Bar. I need to blame somebody, or something, for this, but an easy target escapes me. At the moment.
Right about the time I was coming out of my sulk over missing the Spann tastings, the Rat threw me a bone: a Cline lineup that included single-vineyard, upper-level Zins I’d never before tasted. Harrumph. I dragged my petulant butt (and partner) downtown for some quick sipping before an engagement.
I confess I tend to overlook the Cline wines, even as I’ve enjoyed their ubiquitous $10-range offerings. The latest Oakley Five Reds is a sour-cherry, lip-smacking blend of Merlot, Barbera, Cab Franc, Mourvedre and another varietal whose name escapes me; it’s funky, and I like it even though the current blend lacks the usual Zin. I also think the Red Truck is an all-round good camping wine. But Cline Zinfandels? Eh.
Ah, dear sipper, this is what tastings are FOR. As expected, I was so-so in my reactions to Cline’s California Viognier and everyday inexpensive Zin. I liked the Cashmere a bit more; or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I ADMIRE the Cashmere, a GSM that is pleasant – and philanthropic: Profits from Cashmere support breast cancer research efforts.
Swirling and sniffing at the rest of the Cline wares, I found I liked the Sonoma Coast Zin ($20) well enough, and I expected to like both the Bridgehead and the Big Break Zins, given what I’d read about them.
The Bridgehead? Not so much. I did like the Big Break, but my clear favorite of the tasting was the Live Oak Zin from Contra Costa County. It had more going on than the others – berries and spice, sure, but it also seemed both bigger and more nuanced than its Cline companions. It’s grown on the three acres of Cline’s Live Oak block, where they dry-farm the head-pruned vines. (And no, I don’t know what that means. I suspect it has something to do with the winemaker saying, “To hell with irrigation!” as he slashes through the vineyard with a mean pair of clippers. I don’t know what possesses someone to do that, but I certainly applaud the result.)
Wait, did I say the Live Oak was my favorite? Well yes. . . and no. It was my favorite ZIN of the tasting, and after all, it’s the siren call of Zin that got me tramping downtown right before a dinner date at Pot Pie. But. The most interesting, and delicious, of the Clines was the 2006 Small Berry Mourvedre. I can’t recall whether I’ve ever had Mourvedre straight up rather than as a GSM component – and this was yummy. Double yummy, in fact.
Why "Small Berry"? Because the vines are old and tired and can only kick out wee berries, apparently. This does not bode well for future bottlings of this winning wine, and may explain why it costs $38. Ouch. If I want THAT sort of punishment, I generally jump on the Seghesio web site.
Instead, we took home the Live Oak. I’m still thinking fondly of those eensy-weensy Mourvedre berries, though.
posted by Winetaster | 1:48 PM
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