Clonal Paradox

I was struck by the importance of clonal variety by an experience along the lines of Sherlock Holmes’s dog that (didn’t) bark in the night. On a trip to Washington state to visit Cabernet producers, it turned out that virtually all of the state is planted with a single Cabernet Sauvignon clone, #8 (on its own roots, since there is no phylloxera because of the sandy soils, but that’s another story). Clone 8 is essentially the same as clone #7, the Concannon clone, which is common in California.

Elsewhere there may be a focus on clones (such as in Napa) or an indifference to them (such as in Bordeaux), but in either event the vineyards have a wide diversity with regards to origins of plants. Of course, the availability of clones has led to all sorts of dire predictions about homogenization of flavors (more with the increasing dominance of the Dijon clones of Pinot Noir than with Cabernet Sauvignon), but here is an actual example.

So what are the consequences? One noticeable feature of Washington State with regards to Cabernet Sauvignon is that wines blended from different vineyards are more common than single vineyard bottlings. I wonder if this is because the homogeneity of the genetic material limits diversity in the vineyard and drives producers to find it by blending from different sites?

A tasting at Col Solare on Red Mountain, where other clones have been planted as well as the predominant #8, suggested that producers may be missing out by using a singe clone. Barrel samples showed that a blend of clone 8 with clone 21 had Red Mountain’s characteristic strong tannins, clone 6 conveyed its usual more herbal impression, but clone 2 was intense and precise, while clone 10 was delicate and fragrant. As the vines are relatively young  (planted in 2002), it may be that these differences will narrow with age, but I was left wondering whether Red Mountain’s reputation for strong, aggressive, tannins might partly be due to a specific interaction with clone #8.

On the one hand, the prevalence of a single clone allows vineyard differences to be seen directly; on the other, you wonder at the assumption that the same clone fits all sites, in spite of their different exposures, temperatures, etc. With plantings of Cabernet Sauvignon (and also Merlot) dominated by single clones, you might argue that clones play a much smaller part in Washington than elsewhere. Or perhaps considering the lack of diversity this implies, clonal selection plays a much larger role than elsewhere, since the uniformity significantly restricts the potential expression of different sites.

 

 

 

Bordeaux 1970 versus California 1974

As part of the research for my book on Cabernet Sauvignon, I wanted to determine whether the stereotypes about aging of Bordeaux versus California Cabernet are true, so  I compared wines from the classic 1970 vintage in Bordeaux with Cabernet Sauvignons from the 1974 vintage in California, really the first vintage that put California on the map as a potential competitor to Bordeaux. Is it true that California Cabernet has more limited aging potential compared with Bordeaux?

The two top wines in the tasting absolutely typify the character and quality of Bordeaux versus Napa. The Pichon Lalande had that delicious balance of fruits and herbaceousness; as it gets older it turns more savory. The Mount Eden Cabernet Sauvignon (which comes from an old plot of ungrafted wines on Santa Cruz Mountain) has that warm impression of sweet, ripe red fruits; age has brought a faint impression of piquancy that adds complexity. Ultimately it will become sweeter and simpler.

The California wines are aging well, but they are staying ripe and sweet and warm and showing impressions of ripe strawberries rather than going savory. The best are absolutely delicious, but it’s not obvious what further evolution will occur if they are kept longer. To what extent is this because most are 100% Cabernet Sauvignon or simply a consequence of the warmer climate? The California wines that made great reputations in their day remain the leaders. Heitz Martha’s vineyard has lost some of its density, and is less evidently in a European style. Ridge Montebello shows more evident savory notes. Diamond Creek Volcanic Hill is every drop a mountain Cabernet, just a touch behind the Mayacamas (from Mount Veeder).

Bordeaux was more surprising with some reversals of reputation. From Margaux, Châteaux Giscours and Brane Cantenac, generally considered to be slightly rustic and slightly overcropped in the era, showed better than more classic wines from Pauillac or St. Julien. The issue with the Bordeaux as they age is just how savory you like your wine, as ultimately they can turn herbaceous and medicinal. On this showing, typical or not, the best showed  more complexity than California, but usually were less delicious.

The difference is not so much that California Cabernet doesn’t age so well as Bordeaux, as that it ages differently.

Tasting Notes

Wine were tasted blind in one flight by a panel including Joel Butler MW, Bill Blatch (Bordeaux negociant), Peter Sichel (former château owner), and Josh Greene (Editor, Wine & Spirits magazine).

 Château Pichon Lalande, Pauillac, 1970

Slightly cedary, spicy nose, a touch of Brett lending a leathery complexity: classic Bordeaux. Sturdy on the palate, giving a rather St Estèphe-like impression.  Classic herb-driven palate with almost medicinal after finish. Absolutely classic Bordeaux in the tradition of the sixties and seventies with that delicious mingling of fruits and herbaceous influences. If there was a wine in the tasting that typifies Bordeaux of the sixties and seventies, this was it. 91 Drink to 2018.

Mount Eden, Santa Cruz Cabernet Sauvignon, 1974

Spicy with faint suggestions of cereal, then warm ripe suggestions of sweet, ripe fruits suggesting California. Still lovely and ripe on the palate, the generosity of the warm fruits is evident, but relatively slight development in the direction of savory evolution. Alcohol is a little higher than average. Complex array of flavors on the palate, albeit a touch rustic. and a faint impression of herbaceousness coming through. Delicious balance. 13.9% 91 Drink to  2018.

Heitz Martha’s Vineyard, Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 1974

Faintly savory intimations of roasted meats, then reverting to a faint spiciness, even a hint of perfume. Sweet and ripe on the palate although there is a touch of volatile acidity. Warm impression with nice flavor variety. There’s a touch of iron that resembles Pauillac. 13.0% 90 Drink to 2017.

Freemark Abbey, Bosché Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa, 1971

Quite youthful on the nose with slightly floral perfumed mixing with impressions of spices. Palate follows the nose, nice balance, elegant and flora; a touch of that sweet strawberry impression identifies the origin with California. There seems to be very little development in a savory direction, but good acidity pushes this a little towards a Bordeaux spectrum. 12.4% 90 Drink to  2018.

Château Giscours, Margaux, 1970

Fresh, intriguing nose, hints of spices, a touch of perfume, hints of fruits, quite complex.  Elegant and ripe and the palate, refined red fruits, but lacking a touch in the complexity you expect at this age. Very good, but a little rustic. This fooled almost everyone into thinking it came from Napa; it’s definitely much fuller than you usually find from Margaux, but that’s Giscours. 89 Drink to 2017.

Mayacamas, Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 1974

Perfumed and floral with suggestions of roses and violets on the nose. A lovely balance on the palate here, firm ripe fruits yet with an impression of delicacy, and just a faint herbal underlying hint. But oxidation is beginning to creep in. Touch of  Brett adds complexity. 89 Drink to  2018.

Ridge, Montebello Cabernet Sauvignon, Santa Cruz, 1974

Some impressions of cinnamon and other spices on the nose, a surprisingly youthful impression, developing savory overtones of roasted meats in the glass. If you ignore the increasing acidity on the palate, there’s an impression of ripe, sweet, warm fruits from California, presently ripe and nutty retronasally (with a faint impression of American oak), but developing in a savory direction, even a hint of herbaceousness (more Bordelais than most California wines in this tasting). 89 Drink to 2016.

Château Mouton Rothschild, Pauillac, 1970

A very faint leathery suggestion of Brett on the nose, turning a little flat, but the palate is still lively. Solid fruits, firm, but subject to attack by the acidity. This is a very solid wine, developing some flavor complexity, with a warm impression reminiscent of California (not seen on previous bottles, which were more clearly in the herbaceous spectrum). 89 Drink to 2017.

Chateau Brane Cantenac, Margaux, 1970

Controversial between those who loved it and those who thought it had dried out. Classic Bordeaux nose of cedar, spices, and leather, identifying some Brett (more distinct than on the Pichon Lalande, which also showed a touch). Although acidity is threatening to take over the palate, there is still complexity to the savory fruits counterpoised against the leathery overtones, still delicious. 12.0%, 89 Drink to 2016.

Diamond Creek, Volcanic Hill Cabernet Sauvignon, Diamond Mountain, 1975

Amazingly dark. youthful color. Fragrant, perfumed impression on the nose, a really clean impression compared with all the other wines. The only wine not to have some Brett, said Joel Butler MW. Ripe, sweet, warm, acidity is lifting up of course, but nice fruits underneath, with a touch of tobacco. The initial soft warmth of the fruits identifies California, but in the glass they become more evidently taut, reflecting the mountain site. 12.0% 89 Drink to 2018.

Château Léoville Lascases, St. Julien, 1970

Restrained nose, in fact completely closed. Piercing acidity on the palate as the fruits dry out. May have been elegant, but too old now. Slowly picks up a bit in the glass to reveal some flavor complexity in a savory Bordelais style, and then (after a couple of hours! reverts to a warmer, softer, richer impression, although the finish remains dry and a little tart. 12.0% 87 Drink up.

Château Pontet Canet, Pauillac, 1970

Herbal and savory intimations, barely perceptible hints of raisins, a little tired on the nose, faintly musty. Tight fruits on the palate, originally elegant, but the acidity is beginning to take over, disguising its origins. Elegant fruits but tiring now. 86 Drink up.

Château Grand Puy Lacoste, Pauillac, 1970

Slightly acid nose, some herbaceous intimations, but seems old. Nice fruits on the palate, elegant style, but a touch of volatile acidity. Fruits are lightening and drying out but have not become savory. 86 Drink up

Beaulieu Private Reserve, Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 1974

You never know what you are getting with this wine, because there were two bottlings, one of which was evidently much better than the other. In this bottle, you can see the original spices and fruits , but some oxidized notes of raisins are threatening to take over: the general warmth of the impression identifies California as the origin. Volatile acidity is taking over, turning to raisins in the glass. 13.5%  85 Drink up.

Mondavi, Napa Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve

This was a great bottle in its time, and one of the wines that put the 1974 vintage on the map, but this example did not seem to be the best condition. Mature nose with mixture of acid, fruits that aren’t quite tertiary, but giving an impression that the fruits are drying out. Palate shows better than nose although spoiled by a must, moldy impression. This was delicious before the spoilage took it over. Possibly corked at sub threshold. 13.0% 85 Drink up.

 

Balance and Pornography

Balance is perhaps the most sought after quality in a wine. When you ask winemakers what they are trying to do, the common answer might best be paraphrased as “to express the vineyard in a balanced wine.” But what is balance? Somewhat like pornography, you know it when you see it, but it’s awfully hard to define.

The most common occurrence in which you hear balance evoked as a descriptor is in the context of alcohol. Complaints about high alcohol are usually met with the rejoinder, “but the wine is balanced, so why is it a problem?” This is and isn’t true.

I would say that alcohol was balanced in a wine when it is not noticeable. Lack of balance most often takes the form of a perceptible feeling of heat on the finish. While this occurs most often in wines with high alcohol, I’ve had wines with alcohol over 14% where it was not evident and I’ve had wines at 12.5% where alcohol was obtrusive. I have been puzzling over what it is that confers balance.

I think the most common mistake that producers make is to believe that because a wine is balanced with regards to alcohol, acidity, tannins, all the obvious factors, that’s the end of the argument. But isn’t it true that a wine with 12.5% alcohol needs a different balance overall than a wine with 14% alcohol? If you added 1.5% alcohol to a 12.5% alcohol wine, the effect would be pretty noticeable. The limit of chaptalization to 2% potential alcohol (now reduced to 1.5%) in the northern areas of Europe was intended to stop the wines coming out of balance.

Different grape varieties accumulate sugar at different rates, and certainly the varieties grown in warm climates have always reached high sugar levels at ripeness. High alcohol has always been part of the character of wines such as Chateauneuf du Pape or Barolo or Rioja. But with varieties originating in cooler climates, take for example Cabernet Sauvignon in Bordeaux or even Napa, or Pinot Noir from Burgundy, the alcohol has shot up in the past two decades. The reason is that the grapes have been picked at much higher levels of ripeness. Yes, the wines are balanced, but the balance is different: overall it is richer, more extracted, there is more (but riper) tannin; you need all this to balance the alcohol. (Of course, I’m referring specifically to dry table wines here: fortified wines such as Sherry or Port are another kettle of fish, to mix a metaphor.)

The change in extraction is surely just as responsible as alcohol for the change in the character of Bordeaux and Burgundy over the past two decades: people talk about the alcohol levels, which have increased about 1.0-1.5%, but the richness has increased more than that because some of the alcohol in the older wines came from addition of sugar before fermentation. The change in style over the past three decades is equivalent roughly to a 3% increase in potential alcohol. In North America, as typified by Napa, the increase as been around 2% in potential alcohol (here sometimes hidden by the use of alcohol reduction techniques).

Come to think of it, perhaps there are more similarities than just the difficulty of description between questions of balance and pornography. Wines that have high alcohol, even when balanced, tend to have a titillating effect on the palate: after a small taste that fills the senses, you try for more. But the wine rapidly becomes fatiguing. I suspect that the issue may be the level of dry extract. A wine with 14% alcohol is more powerful not just because of the alcohol but because of the total level of extraction, and I think this is what makes the wines so attractive at first blush, but fatiguing afterwards. They show well at tastings, but I like to perform a reality check by having a bottle for dinner: my measure of a great bottle is that when it’s finished I would in principle like to have another; but when it’s delicious to begin with but I tire of it half way through, I have to concede I was fooled at the tasting. That’s my real measure of balance.

Has Malbec Run Its Course?

A tasting of wines from Uco Valley made me wonder whether Malbec is running out its appeal as a varietal. It’s been the big thing from Argentina for quite a while. Nicolás Catena told me on a recent visit that “when my grandfather came from Italy and planted vineyards in 1902, they were Malbec because that was what everyone was planting at the time.” In Mendoza, which is the center of quality production, Cabernet Sauvignon is pushed into second place by the success of Malbec. Is Malbec just so successful that it reverses the usual trend where Cabernet Sauvignon occupies the best terroirs wherever it can be planted? “The answer is yes, Malbec is occupying some land that would be better suited for Cabernet. Malbec is so well adapted to Argentine culture because it is less demanding,” Paul Hobbs, who makes wine in both California and Argentina, told me.

I was struck by a comparison of Malbec and Cabernet Sauvignon, both grown at Finca el Origen’s  La Esperanza vineyard at 1,200 m elevation above Uco Valley, that at both the Reserva and Gran Reserva level, the Cabernet Sauvignon seemed to have more interest. All the wines showed quite a bit of new oak, with vanillin well in front of the fruits, but whereas this impression was somewhat unrelieved with the Malbec, with the Cabernet Sauvignon there was a faintly savory overtone and a sense of structure to provide more counter balance. At either price point ($12 for the Reserva or $24 for the Gran Reserva), I would prefer the Cabernet. The most interesting wine, however, was the proposed new “icon,” called Phi, a blend based on three quarters Malbec. Given greater interest and complexity by the minor components of Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Petit Verdot, this may do well in the United States if the price point can be kept below $50.

If what you are looking for is a simple entry level wine, with lots of upfront fruits and the impression of new oak, without wishing to be snobbish, I’m not sure it makes a whole lot of difference which variety is used. The varietal name is more significant as a marketing ploy than an indication of character. In that context, people do get tired of varietal labels, and the focus is so intense on Malbec in Argentina that the more thoughtful producers are asking what might be next. There’s some talk of Bonarda as a possible alternative (this is not the same as Bonarda in Italy, but  is the same as Charbono in California), but I’m not sure it really has enough distinction or interest to carry it off.

Producers  believe they need to stick varietal labels (which in Argentina means a wine must have 85% of the named variety), at least at lower levels. “I don’t think we can go far from varietals because that is the way the market understands wine, but many of the wineries have a blend as a high end wine,” says Nora Favelukes, who represents Wines of Argentina in the United States. It’s a pity, because not all varieties are interesting as monovarietal wines, and I think they might make more interesting wines at all levels if they broke out of the straitjacket of single varieties.

Retroactive Blending

You don’t often get the chance to reconsider the blend ten years on, but this is what happened when I visited Château Léoville Lascases in St. Julien. We started with a tasting of the individual varieties from 1999. That year the Grand Vin was 62% Cabernet Sauvignon, 18% Cabernet Franc, and 18% Merlot (there is no Petit Verdot because they believe it is too rustic.) Samples of the individual varieties were bottled separately (starting in new oak and then transferring to one year oak, to give an overall exposure close to the grand vin’s 60% new oak).

The Merlot showed surprisingly fresh red fruits, with just a touch of tertiary development. The Cabernet Franc was evidently more refined, more elegant, than the other varieties and showed a faint herbaceous touch with an impression of tobacco. It was less developed than the other two varieties.  The Cabernet Sauvignon was quite stern, and gave the most complete impression of any of the single varieties, showing as black fruits with a herbal edge and a touch of herbaceousness showing only on the aftertaste. It’s the most closely related (not surprising since it’s dominant component) to the Grand Vin.

The Grand Vin showed more development than was evident with any of the individual varieties, bringing greater complexity. This has certainly taken its superficial softness and roundness from the Merlot, but you can see the Spartan structure of the Cabernet Sauvignon coming through the fruits; in fact, in some ways it seems more evident here than it did in the sample of Cabernet Sauvignon alone (perhaps because the combination of fruits has less weight than the Cabernet Sauvignon alone), but the overall balance is rescued by the freshness of the finish. There is no doubt that the blend is more complex than its components. In terms of overall assessment, this is a fairly tight wine, with the fruits showing just enough roundness to counteract the leanness of this difficult year.

The most fascinating moment came when technical director Michael Georges made some new blends to see what the effect would be of increasing each variety by another 10%. I liked the blends with more Cabernet Sauvignon or Cabernet Franc; they seemed to me to have at least as good a balance of fruit to structure as the Grand Vin. I could believe that either of them might be Léoville Lascases. But the blend with additional Merlot seemed to be unbalanced, to have a rusticity that had lost the character of St. Julien: I would not believe in this as a Léoville Lascases. The trick seems to be to add just enough Merlot to flesh out the wine, but not enough to go over the edge into rusticity. Further experimentation suggested that the ideal blend might have just 5% more of each Cabernet; it seemed to me that this showed just a touch more finesse than the Grand Vin. “Perhaps we should wait ten years to do the assemblage,” said Michael Georges, but then we agreed that this might have some adverse financial consequences.

For me this tasting also cast an interesting light on the question of whether assemblage should be done early or late. Some people believe that the sooner the cépages are blended, the better they marry together, and the better the final wine. The earliest practical moment is after malolactic fermentation is finished. Others hold the contrary position, that you are in a better position to judge the quality of each lot if you keep the individual cépages separate until the last moment. I felt that the retroactive blend with 5% more of each Cabernet had more youthful liveliness than the Grand Vin, but then it might of course have developed differently had this been the blend from the beginning. Based on this limited experience, I’m inclined to the view that it might be best to mature each lot separately, allowing for significant adjustment of oak and variety, as long as possible, and I think it would be very interesting to see what the châteaux would do if they weren’t under pressure from the en primeur system to blend before the April tastings.