Monthly Archives: January 2012

Bordeaux 2009 Redux

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The 2009 and 2010 vintages in Bordeaux achieved a reputation en primeur for atypically lush wines, high in alcohol and low in acid: great vintages but pushing even further the trend towards New World styles. The bottled wines made their first appearance this week, when the Union of Grand Crus took the 2009 vintage on its U.S. road show. I am happy to report that the initial reports from the en primeur front are somewhat exaggerated; in fact, this is (yet another) exercise in how misleading it can be to form judgments en primeur. But first a caveat: the road show does not have all of the wines, and what’s missing are largely those at the top end – the super-seconds and first growths – so it gives an impression from the Cru Bourgeois level to the middle of the classified growths. (39 of the 62 Grand Cru Classés were represented.)

The general impression of the vintage is certainly ripe. There was scarcely a taste of herbaceousness in any of the wines. But it is not over ripe. With a handful of exceptions of wines made in an overtly “international” style, the wines all fell within the parameters of traditional Bordeaux: fruits supported by good acidity, a tendency towards the savory rather than the forcefully fruity, some tannic support showing its bones on the finish. The baby fat of the barrique has lessened to reveal refined structures. As many of the wines showed a restrained austerity as showed overt opulence. In no case was high alcohol oppressive, although I did not have the opportunity to perform a reality check by seeing how an entire bottle would drink at dinner as opposed to tasting in a glass. But almost all seemed to be “food wines” in Bordeaux’s traditional pattern: most were well balanced, few were overblown.

Descriptions of the vintage en primeur made it seem that traditional communal differences might be obscured by the rising tide that lifted all fruits to higher and higher levels of ripeness. But not a bit of it. The wines of Pessac-Léognan tend to show a smoky quality of cigar box, very classic for Graves, the Haut-Médoc has firm fruits with acid support, Margaux comes off just a bit more elegant, with refined fruits sometimes showing a faintly herbal impression, and St. Julien shows that precise delineation of tight black fruits. Pauillac was less typical for me, sometimes showing a slightly hard edge that is more what I usually associate with St. Estèphe. There were too few St. Estèphes in the tasting really to get a bead on its typicity this year, but the style seemed quite traditional. Over on the right bank, the best St. Emilions seemed to be displaying more the fine-edged richness of ripe Cabernet Franc than the Merlot, while Pomerol tended to full blown ripe Merlot, the one area that lived up directly to the reputation of the vintage.

In each commune there were wines that typified its classic character and wines that abandoned tradition to go for broke in the modern style. In Pessac-Léognan, Château Carbonnieux showed classically smoky cigar box notes; this is a château that I usually regard as an under performer, and indeed I do not think the 2009 will stand up in the long term, but it’s a textbook illustration of Graves out of the box. Domaine de Chevalier is a much better wine, but at this point is really restrained: when it comes out of this phase, it will be a classic. It is surely one of the most refined wines of the appellation.

In the Haut-Médoc, Château La Lagune seems more traditional than some of its other recent vintages; good acidity supports elegant black fruits, with a touch of vanillin on the finish. My pick for a quintessential Margaux is Château Desmirail: a slightly savory herbal impression brings precise elegance to the black fruits. This may not be an especially long lived wine, but right now it is nicely displaying the delicacy you expect from Margaux. Prieuré-Lichine turned in a classic performance this year also. Rauzan-Ségla’s impression of precise elegance seemed as much to represent St. Julien as Margaux.

As for St. Julien, Château Léoville Barton typifies the commune. There’s a very fine impression on the palate with fine-grained tannins supporting the elegant, precisely delineated, black fruits. The underlying support promises long aging. Gruaud Larose in a richer style that separates it from the old vintages under Cordier, brings St. Julien into the modern era without losing communal character. The fascinating comparison in Pauillac was between Pichon Baron, to which I give the nod as typifying the commune, and Pichon Lalande, which is more typical of the reputation of the vintage. Pichon Baron shows full force as a super-second, with intensity and depth of fruits, yet held back and constrained by its firm structure, very much the iron fist in the velvet glove. Pichon Lalande is softer.

In St. Emilion, Château Canon La Gaffelière edged out my perennial favorite, Château Figeac. The profile of the Canon La Gaffelière seemed to be driven more by Cabernet Franc than Merlot, with faint savory notes bringing complexity to layers of precise black fruits. (There was also some Cabernet Sauvignon in this vintage.) This will become a finely nuanced wine with age. Figeac is more overtly restrained than usual, but with a fine balance that should support longevity. The standout in Pomerol is La Conseillante, which is opulent and rich, yet with enough structure for aging.

Some wines defy easy localization. Made in the modern style, they are excellent wines in their own right, likely to appeal to consumers who also enjoy top-end New World wines, but for me they no longer represent their communes. Château Pape Clément is a top notch wine in this vintage, with deep, smoky, black fruits leading into chocolaty tannins on the finish: but does it have the character of Graves? Château Smith Haut Lafitte seems also to have moved a bit in this direction in this vintage. In the Haut-Médoc, Château La Tour Carnet is edging in this direction, as is Château Cantenac Brown in Margaux. In St. Julien, Château Léoville Poyferré shows restraint on the nose, but then chocolaty black fruits display a very modern palate: no one could quarrel with the quality, but how does it typify the elegance and precision usually associated with the commune?

The overall impression of the vintage is far more traditional than would be expected from the en primeur reports. The wines are unmistakably Bordeaux in their freshness and aromatic profile. In a word, they have a lovely balance. Quite often the ripeness of the fruits does hide the tannic support, and the vintage is not as obviously destined for very long aging­ as some others – I would be inclined to think more in terms of 15 years than 20 or 30 years. Most of the wines will be ready to start drinking in about three years. Bordeaux has a surprising capacity to recover its character from warmer vintages; the 1982s, so lush and opulent when they first appeared, reverted to type after two decades and now often show a lovely, savory balance with that slightly herbaceous delicious edge. Will the 2009s behave in the same way? It’s a great vintage, but stylistically  in line with the precedents of 2000 or 2005, not totally off the charts as many reports would have suggested.  The Vintage of the Decade – perhaps? But not, I suspect, the Vintage of the Century.

A Reality Check on Napa Cabernet Sauvignon

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It’s become a truism that more powerful, fruit-forward wines in the “international” style may show well at tastings, and in fact make it difficult to appreciate wines in more subtle, restrained styles. No matter how experienced a taster you are, there is always the possibility that the sheer deliciousness of a wine taken in isolation will give a misleading impression of how it will taste with food. So I like to perform a reality check: after seeing how a wine performs at a tasting, to have a bottle for dinner and see how much my impression changes. I should declare my perspective, which is that I’m with Emile Peynaud, who once famously said, “If I want to drink fruit juice, I’ll drink orange juice.” For me, wine should have at least savory intimations; it should not be an alcoholic version of grape juice.

In connection with my book on Cabernet Sauvignon, I have been investigating all styles of the variety, and during a visit to Napa last month tasted a range from the more restrained to the most opulent. In the course of the last week, I repeated this exercise on a more restricted basis with wines at dinner. The dinner wines were all from the 2005 vintage, which was relatively lush, so perhaps it should not be a surprise that all the wines seemed more fruit-driven and more overtly aromatic, than the impression that had been gained of each house during vertical tastings in Napa.

My first impression was that none of these wines is ready to drink with dinner. None of them would seem unready at a tasting in the sense that the fruits come through clearly, and are not obscured by the weight of tannins; indeed, I think these wines all come into the category of seeming delicious at a tasting. The big question is what will happen with time? All have a strong sense of a powerful underlying structure, but this is hidden by the intensity of the fruit concentration. That of course is what makes them approachable now. As the fruits (and tannins) lighten, I expect they will come into a balance that is more suitable to accompany food; the aromatics will become less intense, and the fruits will begin to turn towards savory rather than jammy. That will take at least another five years.

All the wines have high alcohol (over 14%), but this was not the main determinant of their suitability to accompany food. The wine with the highest alcohol (14.8%) was Araujo’s Eisele Vineyard, which seemed the best accompaniment to food. The wine with the lowest alcohol (14%), Shafer’s Hillside Select, seemed the least suitable. The main criterion for me was either the intense aromatics or the very high level of extraction. In the case of the Spottswoode, the aromatics seemed too intense against food, and the Shafer Hillside Select was simply so powerful that I tired of it before we could finish the bottle. I’m sure that in every case the high alcohol was a factor, in that it enhanced the sense of aromatics or extraction, but it was not the sole determining factor.

Of course it’s unfair to put these wines down because they are not ready to drink now. You would not necessarily expect Bordeaux to be ready to drink after six years; indeed, I have not started to drink any Bordeaux of the 2005 vintage. I would normally expect to start on the vintage after about a decade. It’s curious that the point at which the wines become ready to drink (as opposed to tasting) may be similar for both Bordeaux and Napa, but for very different reasons. Typically the tannins need to resolve to allow the fruits to show in Bordeaux, while it seems to me that the fruits need to lighten (especially to become less aromatic) in Napa. It’s premature to make a judgment now: just as you would no more have criticized a great Bordeaux vintage in the past for having too much tannin to drink when young, so it may be unfair to put down a great Napa vintage because it has too much fruit when young. (Some people feel that wines with too much extract and fruit will never age gracefully, but I am prepared to reserve judgment for the moment.) So for my money, a fair test to compare Bordeaux and Napa of the 2005 vintage would be to wait another five years or so.

Tasting Notes in order of suitability to accompany a meal

Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, Eisele, Araujo Vineyard, 2005 (14.8%)

The nose gives a suggestion of balanced restraint, with a mix of red and black fruits and a touch of coconut and vanillin showing, turning to coffee in the glass. The palate shows the coconut and vanillin more distinctly than the nose, with the overt black fruits cut by a faintly austere herbal note of anise. This gives a fine-grained textured impression to the palate, with coconut and vanillin overtones coming back on the finish. This is still too young, but the herbal touch that takes the edge off the exuberance of the fruits promises that this will become a finely balanced wine in a more savory spectrum over the next decade. 91 Drink-2021.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, Spottswoode, 2005 (14.1%)

The initial impression is that this has a European nose but an American palate. There’s a hint of development in a faint touch of barnyard on the nose as it opens, than later this clears to show aromatic black fruits, before returning again. The palate is distinctly Napa, with bursting fruits overlaid by notes of vanillin and coconut. Some intense blackcurrant aromatics stop just short of cassis and make a forceful impression on the palate and finish. This vintage seems less restrained than others from Spottswoode. The underlying tannins take a while to show directly, but finally appear in the form of some bitterness on the finish. It’s not so much the power as the force of the aromatics that make the wine too forceful to accompany food; perhaps another couple of years will make a difference. 89 Drink 2013-2019.

Stags Leap District Cabernet Sauvignon, Hillside Select, Shafer, 2005 (14.0%)

The first impression is very Californian, in the form of strong notes of coconut and vanillin on the nose, turning to coffee and chocolate, but then accompanying savory notes, with a faint tinge of barnyard, suggest there may be some development. The palate, however, reflects more the initial impression than the follow up, with a rather aromatic impression of black fruits, blackcurrants with overtones of cassis, and then those notes of coconut and vanillin coming back on the finish. It’s intense and chewy on the finish, colored by those strong aromatics. No one could quarrel with the quality and intensity, but sometimes I think this style is more food in itself than wine to accompany food. The label claims that the Hillside Select is typical of the Stags Leap District, but I think it is more typical of itself. The big question in my mind is how long it will take for those aromatics to come into a calmer balance, and whether that will be paralleled by an extension of those faint suggestions of development to the palate. My guess is at least a decade before the wine will cease to be so assertive that it overpowers any accompaniment. 90 Drink-2021.

Tradition and Modernism in Bordeaux

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One glance at the label will show how much Bordeaux has changed: alcohol levels in 1982 were under 12.5%; in 2010 they will be around 14%. And this underestimates the extent of change, since roughly 1% of the alcohol was produced by adding sugar in the vintages prior to the 1990s. It’s not the alcohol I’m going on about, though; this is simply an indication of a change in style associated with much greater ripeness that has taken the wine from a vaguely herbaceous style (well, overtly herbaceous in cooler vintages) to a rich, ripe, black-fruit driven style.

Several different forces have come together to drive Bordeaux towards greater ripeness. There’s certainly a conscious determination to avoid wines with overt herbaceousness; warmer growing seasons and better viticulture are allowing the berries to become more mature before it’s necessary to harvest. But in spite of denials from châteaux proprietors – they do not go so far as the Burgundians who are prone to say that they make wine exactly as their fathers and grandfathers made it, but they tend to deny any deliberate change in style – market forces may be the most important factor.

In some other regions there has been a direct clash between tradition and modernity. Fathers and sons stopped speaking to one another in Barolo over the clash between modernists and traditionalists, and Brunello di Montalcino suffered from the same divide, although without such personal animosity. In Rioja some producers solved the problem by making two wines: one in the traditional style, and another under a new label in the modern style. In Bordeaux it is rarely so clear cut. Forming a view of the trend is complicated by the fact that in most cases a transition from traditional to modernist is associated with the sale of a château that was under-performing anyway. I am not sure there are any cases of a succesfull château changing from traditional to modern style.

When a château changes hands, there’s a common trend: to move to a new, more intense, more extracted, more “modern” style. This has been seen most dramatically outside the Médoc, with Château Pavie in St. Emilion¾famously converted after Gérard Perse bought it in 1998 to a wine loved by Robert Parker and loathed by Jancis Robinson­ in the 2003 vintage ¾and with Château Pape Clément in Pessac, which Bernard Magrez added to his portfolio (by inheritance) in 1985, and which subsequently became much richer and more extracted than was common in Pessac-Léognan. The verdict of the market has been quite clear: after the change in style, both have increased significantly in price relative to others that were formerly at the same level. This sets a clear enough precedent for others to emulate.

Examples within the Médoc are more ambiguous. In most cases, the impetus for the sale was that the old proprietor had lost interest (or lacked resources) and the château was palpably under-performing. Even if you regret the passing of the traditional style, it’s hard not to feel conflicted about the change when the wine was had problems before the transition and was so clearly technically improved afterward. Take Châteaux Prieuré Lichine and Lascombes in the Médoc, purchased by American investors in 1999 and 2001, where the style went from rather faded, perhaps one might say run down, to modern and bright. Others that might be put in the same category are Château La Tour Carnet (another Magrez property, acquired in 1999), La Lagune ( acquired by the Frey family in 2000), perhaps Pichon Baron (purchased by AXA in 1987). One counter example of a change in style by existing ownership is Léoville Poyferré, where Michel Rolland was brought in as a consultant in 1995. Everywhere it’s a one way street to modernity.

The contrast between before and after is so striking that it’s hard to assess whether it was necessary to go so far. And indeed, have the new owners gone further in their change of style than those châteaux whose styles have quietly evolved over the years: no one could quarrel with the quality of Léoville Lascases, Ducru Beaucaillou, or Pichon Lalande, but the wines of today are certainly richer than those of the past.

Some change is inevitable even where there is a conscious attempt to maintain traditional values. I’ve always viewed Château Montrose as one of the most traditional châteaux: its wines can take a decade or so to come around, but my goodness, do they justify the wait. They go from a real tough hardness in the early years to a savory elegance after twenty or thirty years that absolutely typifies St. Estèphe for me. The 1970 came around in the past few years and now puts most other wines of the vintage to shame.  I thought perhaps this era had come to an end when the Bouygues brothers purchased the château from the Charmolües in 2006, but was reassured when they hired  Jean Delmas, recently retired as winemaker from Château Haut Brion, to consult.

The question “has the style of Montrose changed in the past twenty years?” produced an emphatic NO! from general manager Nicolas Glumineau when I visited Montrose recently. However, they are making better balanced wines, less austere than earlier vintages, which perhaps were too masculine, he thinks. Nicolas sees the tannins as the key feature in the character of Montrose (and indeed Cabernet Sauvignon in general). “We can get more precision and earlier integration of tannins,” he says. Being more approachable now does not mean the vintage will not last as well. “In the seventies and up to the eighties, it needed fifteen years before the tannins integrated into the wine; the difference today is that the tannins are riper and integrate better and sooner. Tannin integration is a permanent question with Cabernet Sauvignon, but much less so with Merlot. The characteristics of Cabernet Sauvignon are its tannins, and quality is about getting them riper and well integrated into the wine.”

Has Bordeaux in general changed? “Probably more so on the right bank than the left bank, because Merlot is more flexible and responds to changes in the cuverie, but Cabernet Sauvignon is a more powerful variety. Also in the Médoc we are more attached to the personality of the growths. We [at Montrose] are very attached to Bordeaux wine, we do not want to make the sort of wine that you cannot place on a map,” Nicolas says. But he comments ruefully that if you want to adapt your wine to the global demand, to make international wine in a more jammy style, it is better to plant some Merlot, which adapts to a variety of soils.

I’ve often been tempted to join the lament that Bordeaux is losing its way, that it has succumbed to an international style that emphasizes fruit rather than savory character. Part of my concern was alleviated when I discovered that the 1982s – so rich and lush and un-Bordeaux like when first released – are now reverting to a more classic flavor spectrum. If 2000 and 2005 do the same, I shall be happy. And it is hard to characterize vintages such as 2001, 2004, or 2006 as overly international. So it comes down to how 2009 and 2010, with their intense extraction and high alcohol, will perform as they age in bottle. I admit I find it hard to see how a wine at over 14% alcohol can mature like classic Bordeaux, but there have been surprises before.