A Perspective on Canadian Wine

Most people probably know Canadian wine only through the prism of its famous ice wine, but actually Canada has around 12,000 ha of vineyards (mostly in British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley and Ontario’s Niagara Peninsula) roughly equivalent in total to Burgundy’s Côte d’Or. Most production is dry wine, with sparkling wine and ice wine a small proportion. A tasting at Canada House in London offered a rare opportunity to get a bead on whether this is a successful endeavor.

The wines were almost all VQA (Canada’s appellation system), so this is a look at the high end. I do think they’ve made a mistake in defining the VQAs in great detail at this stage, with ten sub-appellations in Niagara, for example, confusing rather than enlightening.

Living on the East coast of the United States, I am inclined to regard Canada as the frozen North, or anyway, distinctly cool climate, so I am frankly confused by the somewhat optimistic descriptions of climate by the Wine Council of Ontario. An amusing chart of annual temperatures in various wine growing regions appears to show that Bordeaux is warmer than the Languedoc and that Niagara is warmer than Bordeaux, which leaves me feeling somewhat sceptical.

Looking at weather station data, I place Niagara between Alsace and the Mosel. It is a little bit warmer in British Columbia, and there is certainly significant variation between the ends of Okanagan Valley as it extends for more than a hundred miles from north to south, but I am surprised to see the southern part described as warmer than Napa on the basis of degree days, as weather station data in the midpoint of the southern part suggest to me that temperatures are quite close to Alsace. Perhaps I am not paying sufficient attention to variations between microclimates.

Tasting the wines, the climate that most often comes to mind for comparison would be the Loire. With Riesling and Chardonnay as the main focus, but also a fair proportion of Pinot Gris, Gewurztraminer, and Viognier, the impression is distinctly cool climate.

Most Chardonnays at the tasting had too much oak for my taste, even though the stated usage of new oak was usually quite moderate. Even allowing for youthful character, I’m not certain there’s enough fruit to carry the oak. My impression of the Chardonnays from Niagara is that the citrus palate can be a bit too much driven by lemon. It’s fair to say that the style is European rather than New World, but given the cool climate character of the wines, I would suggest that Chablis would be a better model than the Côte d’Or, and the question should be how much (old) oak to use together with stainless steel, rather than what proportion of the oak (with many wines barrel fermented) should be new. With prices often around or above $35, competitiveness seems an issue.

Curiously given the cool climate impression, I was not generally impressed with the Rieslings. My main complaint is the style: Riesling character is often obscured by a significant level of residual sugar. I did not find a single dry Riesling. I’m inclined to wonder whether, if you can’t successfully make a dry wine, you should plant a different variety, but I suppose you might say that the best Canadian Rieslings do show a nice aperitif style.

Given the cool climate impression made by the whites, the successful production of reds is quite surprising, especially the focus on Bordeaux varieties rather than those more usually associated with cooler climates. Among them, Cabernet Franc appears to be the variety of choice for single varietal wines, and although there are certainly some creditable wines showing good varietal typicity, I find many to be on the edge for ripeness. Certainly the style is much more European than New World­—the Loire would be the obvious comparison. The best Merlots or Bordeaux blends seem more like the Médoc than the Right Bank of Bordeaux in style.

To my surprise, Syrah outshines Cabernet Franc in Okanagan Valley. The Syrahs are evidently cool climate in character, definitely Syrah not Shiraz, in a fresh style with some elegance, which should mature in a savory direction; nothing with the full force impression of the New World. They remind me of the Northern Rhone in a cool year.

There are some successful Pinot Noirs in both British Columbia and Ontario, presenting somewhat along the lines of Sancerre or Germany. The difficulty is to bring out classic typicity in these cool climates, but the best are Pinot-ish in a light style.

Some producers are now making single vineyard wines. Is it worth it? It’s an interesting question whether at this stage of development the best terroirs have been well enough defined to produce reliably better wine every year or whether a better model would be to make cuvées from the best lots. There’s also the question of whether they are competitive at price points pushing beyond those of the estate bottlings.

Favorites at the tasting

Sparkling wine, Gaspereau Valley, Nova Scotia: Benjamin Bridge, 2008

This is called the Methode Classique Brut Reserve to emphasize the connection with Champagne: it comes from 61% Chardonnay and 39% Pinot Noir. It follows the tradition of Champagne with a faintly toasty nose showing some hints of citrus. Nice balance on palate with an appley impression. Flavors are relatively forceful.   11.5% 89

Syrah, Okanagan Valley, British Columbia: Painted Rocks Winery, 2013

Lovely fruits in a restrained style, fresh and elegant with beautiful balance, a touch of pepper at the end. A textbook Syrah in a slightly tight style.   14.9% 89

Syrah, Okanagan Valley, British Columbia: Burrowing Owl Vineyards, 2013

Black fruit impression on nose with hints of blueberries. Light style is quite Rhone-like on palate, nice clean fruits with faint buttery hints at end, more successful than the Bordeaux varieties. 14.5% 89

Pinot Noir, Beamsville Bench, Niagara Peninsula: Hidden Bench, Felseck Vineyard, 2013

Nicely rounded red fruits with faintly minty overtones bringing a slight herbal impression to the nose. Quite a sweet ripe impression on palate with touch of spice at the end. Slight viscosity on palate brings to mind the style of Pinot Noir in Germany.   12.7% 88

Cabernet Franc, Creek Shores, Niagara Peninsula: Tawse Family Winery, Van Bers Vineyard, 2012

Nose shows some faint tobacco and chocolate, with palate following with typically herbal notes of Cabernet Franc. Dry tobacco-ish finish. Does it have enough fruit to stand up when the tannins resolve?   13.0% 88

Chardonnay, Niagara: Norman Hardie Winery, Cuvee L, 2012

More restrained nose than Hardie’s other Chardonnay cuvees but some oak does show through. Nice balance on palate between oak and slightly lemony fruits. Follows Chablis in style.   12.4% 88

Viognier, Okanagan Valley, British Columbia: Blasted Church Vineyards, 2014

Barrel fermented with some new oak. Faintly perfumed nose with the perfume somewhat clearer on palate. Fry impression to finish short of phenolic. Nice long finish on which you can just see the oak.   13.0% 89

Bordeaux Diary part 7 – Chateau Lafleur – the Beat of a Different Drum in Pomerol

“The first thing my parents did when they took over here in 1985 was to take down all the signs to Chateau Lafleur,” Baptiste Guinaudeau explained when we turned up for our appointment. The “chateau” is a somewhat obscure farmhouse with a tiny plot of 4.58 ha adjoining the vineyards of Chateau Pétrus. Keeping an appointment at Lafleur is a test of ability to draw deductions from the map.

LafleurTW3

The unassuming chateau at Lafleur carries no identification

“When Henri Greloud bought the property in 1872, his vision was to buy small plots and merge them into larger properties, but he felt Lafleur was special and he decided to keep it separate and not to merge it with Le Gay. He built separate cellars so that Lafleur could be independent. Without that decision Lafleur would have become part of Le Gay,” explains Baptiste, who is his great-great grandson. Both properties remained in the family for many years, but today the family properties are Lafleur and also Grand Village, in neighboring Fronsac.

The focus here is really on the vineyard. “We are farmers, we work daily in the vineyard. Chateau Lafleur has 24,800 plants, and we are looking after them individually. We are in the vineyard and we are making the wine also – this is unusual in Bordeaux, usually there are different teams for the vineyard and the cellar – but this connection between the vineyard and cellar is really important for us… The blend is 85% done in vineyard and 15% in cellar. Selection for Pensées (the second wine) is done in the vineyard at harvest. In 2013 400 plants were deselected (individually) from Lafleur to Pensées.”

LafleurTW6Two horses are used to work the vineyard at Lafleur

Lafleur is usually about 55% Cabernet Franc to 45% Merlot, which gives it a restrained character quite different from the average Pomerol. Pensées de Lafleur started as a second wine in 1987, soon after Jacques Guinaudeau took over, and for the first ten years was based on declassification of lots, assignment of wines from young vines, etc. But since 1995 it’s come 90% from a specific part of the vineyard, a lower strip running along the southwest border. It more or less reverses the proportions of varieties in Lafleur.

The focus in winemaking is to avoid too much extraction. “We don’t use the word extraction, we want to infuse, the best tannins come without intervention in the first days of fermentation. Cuvaison is only 12-15 days, which is short for Bordeaux, because the wine is already well structured.” Élevage sees some restraint. “We love barrels but we hate oak. 80% of Lafleur and Pensées ages in 6-month barrels coming from Grand Village, the rest is new oak.” And alcohol levels are generally moderate. “It’s impossible to be ripe with less than 13% alcohol in Bordeaux now, but you can be completely ripe at 13.6%. People are going to crazy levels of alcohol to impress critics.” This is old fashioned Bordeaux in the best sense – elegant rather than powerful or jammy fruits, moderate alcohol, restrained wood.

Lafleur can display a touch of austerity coming from its high Cabernet Franc content. It definitely needs more time than average to show its full complexity. “Lafleur is closest to Cheval on the Right Bank, but it’s much easier to compare it to Latour (in Pauillac) than to Pétrus, our style is more masculine, more Left Bank,” says Baptiste. It’s fascinating that the two top wines of Pomerol, Pétrus and Lafleur, should be adjacent, yet so very different.

 

Bordeaux Diary part 6 – Vive La Difference – The Triumph of Cabernet Franc at Cheval Blanc, Ausone, and Canon

The first and last visits of the day were to properties that could scarcely differ more superficially. Cheval Blanc has a fantastic new winery with the appearance of a breaking wave on the shore. Ausone has a nineteenth century belle epoque chateau that is being restored in the original style. Cheval is owned by Bernard Arnault of LVMH; Ausone remains in the hands of the Vauthier family. Cheval Blanc has 36 ha on the area of graves adjacent to Pomerol; Ausone has only 7 ha, partly on the limestone plateau just outside the town of St. Emilion, partly on the descending slopes. The production of Cheval’s second wine is larger than the production of Ausone’s grand vin. Yet these are the two original Premier Grand Cru Classé “A” chateaux—and in spite of the promotion of Angelus and Pavie to that category, neither has been admitted to the Club of Eight that represents the Premier Grand Cru Classés of both left and right banks. Both Cheval and Ausone have a strong commitment to Cabernet Franc, indeed these are the two greatest wines in the world based on a Cabernet Franc blend.

Thursday morning: Technical director Pierre Clouet shows us round the new cuverie at Cheval Blanc. “It took the new owners ten years to decide what they wanted,” he says, “but then it was done very fast. We wanted to respect the nineteenth century history but to have something modern.” It’s a green building with a living roof, containing a garden and terrace. Inside are 45 cuves to allow each of the plots in the vineyard to be vinified separately. “We produce exceptional wine by miracles in the vineyard and no mistakes in the cellar,” Pierre says. “We don’t want to change the style of Cheval, that was decided two centuries ago, but we want to have more precision, more resolution, more pixels.” The decision on whether to include lots in Cheval Bland or in the second wine, Petit Cheval, is taken on a plot by plot basis: each of the 45 cuvees must be good enough to include in Cheval Blanc, or it is declassified to Petit Cheval. There is also a third wine to keep up the quality of Petit Cheval.

ChevalTWThe architect wants the biomorphic form of the new winery to have the sense of simplicity and light of a cathedral.

There’s an interesting difference in the vineyard. “People who think that Merlot is for clay and Cabernet Franc is for gravel don’t understand Cheval Blanc; it is exactly the opposite here, Merlot is on gravel and Cabernet Franc is on clay. The Merlot is picked early, al dente, in order to preserve freshness. Cabernet Franc is not Sauvignon, it does very well on clay. This is what gives the wine its texture. The Cabernet Franc that is on gravel works best when the gravel is on a subsoil of clay, the tannins are too hard from Cabernet Franc on full gravel and there’s always some green pepper, so you would have to harvest late, and then you would get a mixture of over-ripe and under-ripe flavors.” We taste the 2006, which is round and elegant, a very good result for a year where I find most Bordeaux to have a rather flat flavor profile.

Afternoon: At Chateau Ausone, Alain Vauthier also believes that the Cabernet Franc is the essence of the style. “We’ve only been planting Cabernet Franc recently, and the proportion has increased,” he says. “We make very good Merlot, but I prefer the Cabernet.” I asked if there was a difference in terroirs for Merlot and Cabernet. “In theory, yes, but at Ausone there is the same effect as at Cheval Blanc and Pétrus: the terroir dominates the cépage.” We see round the facility, which is modest, with a fermentation facility using small wooden vats, and a barrel room cut deep into the rock. We taste the 2012, which is about to be bottled, and there is that characteristic combination of power with finesse.

AusoneTWThe Chateau at Ausone is being restored.

In between: Coming out of St. Emilion into the one way system at the top of the town, we pass a bewildering number of entrances with gateposts saying Chateau Canon. Most lead into the vineyard or towards the chateau which is plastered with signs saying, Keep Out, work in progress. Eventually we find an entrance that winds round the back to the bureau, separated from the chateau which is undergoing a massive renovation. John Kolasa arrives from Rauzan-Ségla in Margaux, also owned by Chanel. Things had gone badly downhill when Chanel bought the property in 1996, and it’s taken twenty years to get things back to where he would like them. The cellars have been entirely rebuilt and 75% of the vineyard has been replanted. Croix de Canon is used for the wine from the young vines, but as they become older these lots will begin to go into Chateau Canon, and Croix de Canon will come from the vineyards of the former Chateau Matras, adjacent to Canon, that were recently purchased.

The style here is distinctive. Once again, Cabernet Franc is key. At one point, Merlot reached 80% of the vineyards, but the replanting program has brought it back down to 65%. “Canon can’t make sexy wine because the vines up here on plateau get stressed, down below on the plain” (with a slightly disdainful gesture) “the wines are ripe and round when young, but they will be flabby after 40 years. Up here there is more minerality, the wines will last for years.” Bordeaux is coming back towards a fresher style, John believes. We taste a sample of the 2013, followed by the 2011 and 2001. The same purity of style is evident; if I had these wines blind I would predict a higher content of Cabernet Franc than is actually the case, as for me they have that mineral purity I always associate with the variety. The lineage back to the wines of the 1960s is clear. Canon is right back on form.

Talking about vintages, I ask both Pierre Clouet and John Kolasa what they feel about the highly rated 2000 vintage versus the 2001 vintage that it somewhat overshadowed. They have the same view: 2001 really represents the style of the chateau, it has not yet entirely come into its own and will last for a very long time, 2000 is delicious now but is (at the risk of putting words in their mouths) more opulent than the style they truly desire, and it will not last as long as 2001. Cabernet Franc über alles.

A Visit to Clos Rougeard

The unassuming appearance of Clos Rougeard completely belies its international reputation as the domain where the Foucault brothers make the best red wine of the Loire. Located in a residential street in Chacé, there is no nameplate or even a street number to distinguish the domain: you have to deduce its location from the numbers of the houses on either side. A neighbor on the other side of the street watched with some amusement as we pressed the bell and got no answer. “They’ve gone out,” he told us, “I saw them leave a few minutes ago. Do you have an appointment?” When told that we did, he said, “well it will be alright then, they will be back soon.” I had the impression that watching people turned away from Clos Rougeard might be part of his day. But in a few minutes, Nady Foucault indeed returned to let us in. Once admitted, the house is to one side, and across a courtyard is the entrance to the winery, with a rabbit warren of old caves underneath, carved out of the rock and very cold.

The domain has just over 10 ha, with 9.5 ha of Cabernet Franc and a hectare of Chenin Blanc. The three cuvees of Cabernet Franc are the domain wine (an assemblage of many parcels), Les Poyeux, and Le Bourg: the white wine is called Brèze. Les Poyeux is a 3 ha plot of 40 year old vines with soils carrying from argile-silex to argile-calcaire. Le Bourg has 70 year old vines on argile-calcaire terroir (located behind the house), consisting of  1 ha in two parcels. Le Bourg gives a tighter wine with higher acidity and tighter tannins and needs more time. Usually Le Clos (the domain bottling) and Les Poyeux spend 24 months in barrique as does Bourg, but in 2009 Bourg spent 30 months because this was a powerful vintage. The white (Brèze) spends 24 months in barriques, with 20% new oak. One need hardly ask about methods: they are all traditional. Vines are maintained by selection massale. There’s no chaptalization, no collage, no filtration, no battonage (for red: sometimes there is battonage for white).

The major characteristic of the house, for both reds and white, is the sheer purity of the fruits. There is a wonderfully seamless, smooth, edge to the Cabernet Franc; you feel you are tasting the unalloyed purity of the variety. The underlying structure is so refined it is hard to see directly. The fruits are precisely delineated, with great purity of line, supported by a very fine underlying granular texture, with a sheen on the surface. Hints of stone and tobacco show on the finish. All the cuvées offer an unmistakable impression of pure Cabernet Franc. There’s a smooth generosity to the wine that in terms of comparisons with Bordeaux might be regarded as more right bank than left bank. The reds are by far the best known, but the white is also very fine: concentrated, mineral, and savory.

There are other fine red wines in Saumur Champigny and Chinon, but it is fair to say that nothing else I tasted on a recent visit to the region left me with that impression of seamless purity. I asked the Foucaults what is responsible for the difference at Clos Rougeard. “We had a chance, our parents never used herbicide; they were the only people in the appellation not to do so in the 1960s and 1970s. The other vignerons mocked us because we had weeds among the vines. And in the 1980s we were the only ones to mature our harvest in barriques; most people only used cuves,” says Nady Foucault.  The difference is so marked, it’s hard to believe that is all there is to it! When pushed, all Nady would add was that, “The other difference is that we are very traditional, we are making wine exactly like our parents and grandparents.” But with all due respect, I would be astonished if the wines were this fine two generations ago.

The Foucaults sell the wine at a reasonable price, not cheap, but fair (although it’s all on allocation: even top restaurants get only a half case). They are conscious of its fame, however. When I visited, there was a lively discussion about the price of wines, including Clos Rougeard on the after market. ““I am not for speculation in wine, it’s made for drinking. Wines are not like jewelry,” says Nady, and the price recently reached by an old bottle of Le Bourg was regarded with incredulity.

Bordeaux 2010 : Musical Chairs at the Communes

At the first showing of the 2010 Bordeaux’s at the UGCB tasting in New York last week, the most common question from producers was “which vintage do you prefer, this year or 2009?” The comparison with the 2009s at the UGCB tasting a year ago is like night and day: those wines were often immediately appealing, with lots of obvious fruit extract, whereas the 2010s have a more precise, structured, impression and are more difficult to assess. Producers seem to feel almost universally that 2010 is the better year. I am not entirely convinced and am becoming worried that my palate may have been corrupted.

Differences between appellations came out more clearly this year, but in a different way from 2009. The appellations seemed to playing musical chairs, with some switches of character. Margaux shows fruit precision more obviously backed by tannins;  St. Julien shows a soft delicacy. In fact, you might say that Margaux shows a touch of the precision of St. Julien, while St. Julien shows a touch of the delicacy of Margaux. Pauillac is quite firm but often shows perfumed violets reminiscent of Margaux,  and tannins are less obvious than usual. St Emilion is unusually aromatic (some wines were too aromatic for me) and Pomerol seems to be sterner. The other turn-up for the book was that those chateaux that have been showing a move to a more modernist style–Pape Clément, Lascombes, Lagrange, Léoville-Poyferré at the forefront–reverted to more classic character, although Smith Haut Lafitte went full force international.

My concern about the future of this vintage started when I tasted through the wines from Margaux (the appellation best represented at the tasting). Almost all the wines showed classic refinement and elegance, with a very nice balance of black fruits to fine-grained tannins, but for the most part there did not seem to be the sheer concentration for real longevity. My sense is that most of the Margaux will be lovely to drink between five and ten years from now, but they may not continue to hold for another decade beyond that. Of course, if they follow the path of the 2009s, which were very approachable a year ago but many of which have closed up today, this timescale could be extended. Judging from Margaux, this is a very good vintage indeed, but I am uncertain whether it will rise to greatness. The best wines in St. Julien are the Léovilles, which have precision and fruit concentration: others have precision but do not quite seem to have the fruit concentration.

Pauillacs were mostly lovely, but with more elegance than the power you usually find, and some might almost be described as delicate. Most seem lively for the medium term, but few offer the potential for real longevity, Perhaps we should no longer expect real longevity? A word that often appears in my tasting notes from Pauillac is “superficial.” There are rarely enough wines from St. Estèphe at the UGCB to form a definitive judgment, but on a rather limited showing they seem to be somewhat Pauillac-like this year.

St Emilion seemed to show its basic varietal composition more clearly than usual. All the wines were more obviously aromatic than usual, and those with greater proportions of Cabernet Franc tended to show unusually high toned aromatics, tending to black cherries; wines where the Merlot was more obviously dominant gave the slightly sterner impression that is the reputation of the vintage. Canon and Canon La Gaffelière were the most obviously aromatic. Cabernet Franc seems to have been too ripe for any wines to show overt notes of tobacco, but there are occasional sweet hints of it. Most wines will be ready to start in a couple of years and should hold for a decade. Pomerol, with its greater content of Merlot, is usually more obviously lush than St.  Emilion, but this year seemed more subtle.

I did not get the expected impression of greatness from the Sauternes. The best had a beautiful sweetness with overtones of botrytis, but didn’t seem to have quite enough piquancy to maintain freshness in the long run. However, the wines I tasted were mostly from Sauternes, and it’s said that the standouts were in Barsac this year.

Best wines for each appellation (from those represented at the tasting which were most but not all of the top wines) were:

Pessac-Léognan: Domaine de Chevalier

Margaux: Rauzan-Ségla

St. Julien: Léoville Barton

Pauillac: Pichon Lalande

St. Emilion: Figeac

Sauternes: de Fargues

Looking back a year, I was equally surprised at both tastings, but in quite different ways. Based on reports en primeur, I expected the 2009s to be heavy if not brutish: but by the time they had settled down for the 2009 tasting, most had that characteristic acid uplift of Bordeaux to cut the rich fruits. Accustomed to those rich fruits over the past year, the 2010s seemed much tighter, but I’m not sure they’ve really got that much more structure, and in many cases it seems uncertain whether the fruit concentration will really carry them on for years after the 2009s, as conventional wisdom has it. However, in the past year the 2009s have quite tightened up, and now seem more classical; if the 2010s do the same, I may have underestimated their potential for longevity. There’s no doubt that the 2009s are more delicious and will remain so for some time: perhaps my palate has been Parkerized, but I prefer them at the moment and I’m uncertain if and when that will change.

When did you last confuse Cabernet Sauvignon with Cabernet Franc?

Confusing things in wine is common. There’s an old story about André Simon—I think it’s been attributed to other famous wine connoisseurs also—that he was once asked: when did you last confuse Burgundy and Bordeaux? He thought for a bit, scratched his head, and said, “Well, not since lunch, anyway.” But surely everyone can tell the difference between Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc? Well maybe not.

I bumped into a curious situation when I was researching Cabernet Sauvignon on the right bank of Bordeaux for my book Claret & Cabs. There’s really not very much at noted châteaux because it’s so difficult to ripen. Merlot of course is the predominant variety, and if there’s Cabernet, it’s usually Cabernet Franc. On the graves of St. Emilion, Château Figeac is the standout example, with 33% each of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, and Merlot, and there are also a couple of other châteaux with significant amounts. The area of the plateau where these châteaux are located extends into Pomerol, so I took a look there, and discovered to my surprise that Château Petit Village was reported to have 17% Cabernet Sauvignon. I had not realized anyone in Pomerol had that much.

Then I discovered that in 2010 the reported proportion of Cabernet Sauvignon at Petit Village had dropped to 7%. Ahah, I thought, they must have discovered that it doesn’t work well enough, and pulled it out, it would be interesting to discuss this. So I made an appointment to visit the château. When word of the visit reached AXA (who own Château Petit Village), it was cancelled. “We do have some Cabernet Sauvignon on the estate, however not much (less than 7%), and our main concern there is Merlot, the main grape variety on the estate. We do not feel that speaking about Cabernet Sauvignon here is relevant to the style and personality of the wines from Petit Village,” said Marie-Louise Schÿler of AXA.

This seemed a bit over-sensitive, but I then discovered that in fact there had never been that much Cabernet Sauvignon anyway. A review of current wines mentioned that a plot of old vines that had survived the frost of 1956, and which had been thought for fifty years to be Cabernet Sauvignon, had been discovered really to be Cabernet Franc. My efforts to discuss this with René Matignon from Château Pichon Baron (also owned by AXA), to whom the report about the discovery was attributed, were rebuffed. “I prefer you address your requests to Marie-Louise Schÿler,” he responded.

So I cannot report any details about the character of this Cabernet Franc, but I do think that a plot of Cabernet Franc that could masquerade as Cabernet Sauvignon for over half a century might have something rather interesting to contribute to the future of the right bank, especially given the difficulties created by the warming climate trend. Perhaps AXA will relent and allow me to taste some barrel samples in the future.

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.

Cabernet Sauvignon: Bordeaux versus Languedoc

Cabernet Sauvignon is a grape that conjures up immediate impressions of stern black fruits, austere if not herbaceous when young, slowly giving way to more varied and savory impressions as the tannins resolve and the fruits lighten up. It’s not a grape where there are violent feelings about yields, as there are with Pinot Noir, and there is a far wider range of wines, from entry levels to cults. I thought it might be interesting to see how much typicity Cabernet Sauvignon displays in entry level wines, and whether Bordeaux remains competitive with the Languedoc, where there have been significant plantings of Cabernet Sauvignon, presently amounting to 18,000 hectares compared to Bordeaux’s 28,000 hectares. The mandate for comparison was that all wines should come in bottles and should be priced under $15 (£10).

My first impression was of the similarities of the wines rather than their differences. Whether they were exclusively Cabernet Sauvignon or blends where Cabernet Sauvignon was as little as half the total (the rest usually being Merlot, but sometimes in Bordeaux including Cabernet Franc), the general style for entry level wines was for soft, red fruits with a sweet impression on the palate. No, I’m not accusing the producers of leaving residual sugar, but there was a soft, glycerin-like impression on many of the wines, which was reinforced by a slightly aromatic impression that to me conflicts with the character of Cabernet. The only consistent difference between Bordeaux and Languedoc is that the wines of the Languedoc tended to just slightly more evident aromatics, and most of the Bordeaux had a slightly greater impression of tannic dryness on the finish. None of the wines had any trace of herbaceousness: this has now completely disappeared from the lexicon of descriptors for Cabernet Sauvignon irrespective of origin or vintage. If there is indeed a common stylistic objective based on suppleness of fruits and minimal tannins, the Languedoc’s warmer climate gives it an advantage.

The main difference between the regions is price: the Languedoc wines are on average around two thirds of the price of the Bordeaux. This bangs home the difficulty of Bordeaux in surviving at the AOC level: it’s not competitive with the Languedoc, let alone with the New World (although admittedly there’s more difference of style when you compare with the New World). Part of that difference is due to the restrictions of the Appellation Contrôlée in Bordeaux, compared to the greater freedom in the Vin de Pays of the Languedoc. One major place for this effect is the higher yields allowed in the Vin de Pays, from which I was expecting the wines to be less concentrated. However, virtually all the wines struck me as not exactly over cropped, but certainly liable to benefit from any increase in concentration. I really could not see what benefit came from the yield limits around 50 hl/ha in the AOC compared with potentially higher yields in the Vin de Pays. The Languedoc wines have a marketing advantage that they all state Cabernet Sauvignon on the label, whereas almost all the Bordeaux require detailed examination of the back label to determine the character of the blend.

The wine that actually most conformed to my impression of what an entry level Bordeaux should taste like these days did not come from Bordeaux: it was Gerard Bertrand’s Cabernet Sauvignon from the Pays d’Oc, which unusually for the region retained some typicity of Cabernet in the form of a restraint to the black fruits. The most interesting comparison was between Baron Philippe de Rothschild’s Mouton Cadet, for many years the archetypal Bordeaux blend, and his Cadet d’Oc. The Cadet d’Oc was my runner-up from the Languedoc, with some impressions of Cabernet Sauvignon, whereas the Mouton Cadet gave more of a interdenominational impression, with soft fruits, pleasant enough, but no sense of constituent varieties or place of origin.

The two most expensive wines offered an interesting contrast. I thought the Bordeaux Réserve Spéciale from Barons de Rothschild (Lafite) was trading on the name of Chateau Lafite; it was a little riper and more rounded than most from Bordeaux, but there were wines from Languedoc at half the price level that seemed to offer a similar flavor spectrum. Château Larose Trintaudon, a rather large Cru Bourgeois from the Haut Médoc offered the most classic impression of Bordeaux in this tasting, which is to say that the fruits gave a savory rather than aromatic impression.

One moral from the tasting is that it’s hard at this level if you expect Cabernet Sauvignon to mean more than a marketing term on the label. It leaves me wondering whether there is really any point to varietal wines at the entry level, since they rarely offer any pointer to the character of wines at higher levels.

Two from Baron Philippe de Rothschild

Bordeaux, Mouton Cadet, 2009

Initial impressions are quite round and fruity, with black fruits of cherries and plums, and sweet ripe aromatics giving an impression that’s more of the south than Bordeaux; until a characteristic dryness kicks in the finish, this does not seem particular representative of Cabernet (it has 20% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Cabernet Franc to the 65% Merlot). There isn’t really quite enough fruit density or flavor interest to counteract the dryness of the finish.   13.5% 85 Drink now-2015.

Vin de Pays d’Oc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Baron Philippe de Rothschild, 2009

Fairly restrained on the nose with some hints of spicy black fruits, which follow through to the palate. This has a touch of high toned aromatics suggestive of black cherries or plums, and there are some firm tannins drying the finish. Well made, with the edges of Cabernet distinctly softened in the southern style, but retaining enough tannic backbone to justify its varietal label.   13.5% 86 Drink now-2016.

Best entry level Cabernet Sauvignon

Vin de Pays d’Oc, Cabernet Sauvignon Réserve Spéciale, Gérard Bertrand, 2008

Slightly spicy suggestions to the black fruits of the nose. Some sense of character to the palate, with those spices showing against the black fruits, and an impression of ripe tannins on the finish. The tannins are ripe enough to complement rather than detract from the fruits This is one of the few entry level wines from Languedoc which seem to speak of Cabernet: perhaps it’s more overtly aromatic than you usually, find in Bordeaux, but it conforms more closely to my impression of what an entry level Bordeaux should offer in the modern climate than most wines from Bordeaux actually offer.   13.0% 87 Drink now-2016.

The most classic Cabernet Sauvignon

Château Larose Trintaudon, Haut-Médoc, 2006

The nose offers some slightly spicy red and black fruits with a suggestion of character, which follows through to the palate. This wasn’t a very generous vintage, and that’s reflected in the wine, but there is a good balance with the fruits showing some flavor variety; the finish is a bit flattened with some dryness showing from tannins, but this is unmistakably a wine from the Médoc that is true to its origins. However, I would not place this very high up the hierarchy of Cru Bourgeois.   13.0% 87 Drink now-2016.

Elegance and European Restraint in Napa Valley

The stereotype of Napa Valley Cabernet, as for New World wine in general, is for up-front, forward, bright fruits, intense and flavorful on nose and palate. “This what the fruits give us,” producers will say. Exacerbated by the trend over recent years to picking later, there can be a tendency to powerful extraction rather than elegance or subtlety. This may be a fair criticism of extremes, both at lower price levels where an emphasis on direct fruits substitutes for anything more complex, and for some top wines where ripeness has turned to over ripeness. But on my recent visit to Napa I was struck by the number of wines that displayed true Cabernet typicity, and by the fact that some cult wines, at least, are far removed from the caricature of bigger is better. In these tastings, a decade seemed to be about the appropriate age for starting the wine, a far cry from the popular impression that the wines should be drunk young and don’t age.

Two of the most interesting representations of Cabernet in a more restrained style came from Corison and Spottswoode, both long known for their elegance of approach. It would be fair to describe Cathy Corison’s style as aiming for precision in the fruits. She is well known for picking early in the context of Napa, aiming for ripeness without high alcohol. The wines are pure Cabernet Sauvignon.  “At least on the Rutherford bench, I believe that Cabernet can do anything the blending varieties can do, better, nine years out of ten. Rutherford gives you the entire range of fruit flavors that Cabernet can give all in one glass,” she says.  After some years in the wilderness, when there was a general move towards greater ripeness, she thinks the pendulum is swinging back.

My general impression of a vertical tasting of recent vintages was that the wines somewhat resembled what would happen in Bordeaux if they made monovarietal Cabernet. The wines showcase precise black fruits, outlined in cooler vintages by a tight acidity supported by fine grained tannins, not exactly austere but certainly restrained, giving way in warmer vintages to a softer palate with more velvety textured tannins. The 2001 was just coming up to its peak. The Kronos bottling, which comes from the vineyard immediately around the winery, is fuller and plusher with an extra density of fruit concentration that reflects the old vines.

Spottswoode is an old line winery – wine was being made here in the nineteenth century – which for the past three decades has also been known for its restrained style, although in the past decade, perhaps in response to market pressure, there has been a move to greater ripeness. Current winemaker Aron Weinkauf says that, “We are still fairly early pickers but that’s partly because we are one of the warmer sites, but in more recent years we haven’t shied away from going after ripeness.” Most of the Cabernet is their own selection, essentially a heritage clone that has adapted to the site. They tried some clone 337 but pulled most of it out because it was too strongly flavored with cassis. The wines have changed from pure Cabernet Sauvignon to a blend. Rosemary Cakebread, winemaker from 1997-2005, who still consults, explained, “When I came to Spottswoode, it was virtually all Cabernet Sauvignon. To allow ourselves some blending opportunities each vintage, it was really an advantage to have some other varieties, so when we had the opportunity we planted some Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot to give ourselves some flexibility.” Now there is 1 acre of Petit Verdot and  3 acres of Cabernet Franc, in addition to 31 acres of Cabernet Sauvignon. There’s no Merlot. The style is restrained, and the wines definitely need to age: the 1992 was at perfection.

I found another outlier for style at Viader, where the Proprietary Red is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, generally around 60:40, but varying with the vintage. “The limiting factor in the blend is the aging potential of Cabernet Franc- we have typical mountain tannins, very intense and dominant – so we use all the Cabernet Franc that is successful, and then add Cabernet Sauvignon (but there is always a majority of Cabernet Sauvignon, up to 75%)”, says Delia Viader. She explained her stylistic objectives. “I always had a very clear stylistic aim, I wanted to make a wine more in the St Emilion style, but elegant. I don’t go after fruit, fruit, fruit, fruit, I want elegance. Like St  Emilion because it’s not in your face, there are not the dominant Médoc tannins. It’s the quality of tannins that are the big criterion.” The wine needs at least seven years aging, she says. Coming from Howell Mountain, but outside of the AVA, the wine has typical mountain austerity, with the aromatics of Cabernet Franc often quite dominant even though it’s the lesser component. The 2002 seemed at its peak when I visited.

I liked the restraint of these wines, and I wouldn’t drink any of them under a decade. Ranging from pure Cabernet Sauvignon, to a Bordeaux blend, to a blend of Cabernets, they were an impressive demonstration of Napa’s potential for something well beyond the stereotype.

Tastings at Corison

Kronos 2006

More evident aromatics on the nose than on the Corison Cabernet with an immediate impression of black plums and blackcurrants. The palate follows right on, with more forward, plush fruits, showing the intensity of the old vines, and velvety tannins with a furry texture on the finish. 92 Drink-2024.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2006

Fruits on the nose initially appear a little spicy and then develop some notes of coffee in the glass. Nicely rounded black fruits show on the palate, with a kick of ripe plums and blackcurrants on the finish. That touch of spice comes out again on the palate with a soft velvety texture. The small crop of this year gives the wine an impression of concentration, softer and more overtly fruity than the preceding vintage, and perhaps less typical of the usual Corison style. Tight and closed only a few months ago, this wine has suddenly begun to open out. 91 Drink-2021.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2005

More black fruits than red on the nose. Nicely textured density with a soft impression on the finish, and an elegant impression overall. The mix of red and black fruits tending to cherries on the palate gives a fresh impression. There’s a slight retronasal nuttiness. Sandwiched between two softer vintages (2004 and 2006) this year gives a very fine-grained impression from what was a relatively large crop. 89 Drink-2021.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2004

Restrained nose is developing some suggestions of coffee. Reflecting the warmer vintage, the wine is softer than usual, with more broadly diffuse black fruits, and a soft, gravelly texture to the finish. 89 Drink-2020.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2003

There’s a fairly spicy red and black fruit nose. Fruits are quite restrained on the palate at the moment and seem to be developing very slowly; perhaps the wine is passing through a dumb phase, with a certain lack of presence on the mid palate. 88 Drink-2019.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2002

Restrained nose has some suggestions of spices and pepper, with black fruits turning more red in the glass. Good acidity lends precision to the fruits, but with less presence on the mid palate than was evident in the 2001. This mid bodied wine is developing slowly. 90 Drink-2021.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2001

A touch of red fruits on the nose has some suggestions of underlying austerity with a hint of acidity. On the palate the fruits make an elegant impression, showing as precise black cherries, plums, and blackcurrants, with an elegant acidity. This shows the most precision of fruits of the vertical (from 2001 to 2006), with a soft, gravelly texture just beginning to develop underneath. 90 Drink-2022.

Tastings at Spottswoode

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2008

Restrained nose suggestive of black fruits with herbal overtones. Smooth elegant fruits of blackcurrants and blackberries show in a light style on the palate. not a blockbuster. Slowly a faint impression of chocolate, vanillin, and coconut develops on the finish. Rather taut, with fine grained tannins, this really needs another couple of years to open out. 89 Drink 2013-2023.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 2001

Spicy black fruit nose shows a touch of cinnamon and a suggestion of smoky minerality. Elegant black fruits are precisely delineated on the palate in a restrained style. Fruits have lost their primary fat but not yet developed savory notes. The wine still seems quite youthful, perhaps at the end of its adolescence, just about to develop. 90 Drink-2023.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 1998

Strongly developed barnyard nose is quite pungent. The palate shows more subtle balance than is suggested by the nose, although savory notes of sous bois are clearly dominant. Fruits still are quite concentrated, although some bitterness is creeping on to the finish. Then the barnyard blows off somewhat to reveal some tobacco notes. Delicious, but will be too developed for some palates. 87 Drink-2014.

Napa Cabernet Sauvignon, 1992

Mature nose is intriguingly balanced between perfume and sous bois, giving an impression of delicacy, with a developing touch of minerality and smoke. The balance on the palate makes it hard to decide whether savory or fruit is the driving force. The light elegance of the palate perhaps doesn’t quite deliver the full complexity promised by the nose, but right at this moment it’s caught at that delicious turning point. This may be the  most subtle wine Spottswoode made in the past two decades, but drink soon before the fruits begin to decline. 92 Drink-2015.

Tastings at Viader

Napa, 2008 (69% Cabernet Sauvignon,  31% Cabernet Franc)

The aromatics and perfume of Cabernet Franc seem to dominate the nose, with tobacco giving way to more austere aromas. The elegant palate shows tight, precise fruits, with a chocolate coating on the finish. Once again Cabernet Franc seems more in evidence than Sauvignon. Overall impression is quite perfumed and elegant. 91 Drink-2022.

Napa, 2002, 14% (51% Cabernet Sauvignon, 49% Cabernet Franc)

Development on the nose shows as savory, barnyard notes, which change to nuts and cereal in the glass. The palate is more herbal than savory, with a touch of spice to the red fruits. Tannins have resolved, there is a nice balance, and the wine is at its peak. 89 Drink-2016.

Napa, 2001

Characteristic Napa fruit comes right up in the glass, showing as aromatic, piquant, black plums on the nose. Very fine and tight on the palate, with a refined quality brought by the Cabernet Franc. The overall balance of the palate is taut rather than fleshy,. The nose promises a finely delineated elegance, which the palate delivers, although it is a touch linear, making somewhat of a contrast with the aromatics of the nose. The fine granular texture is very Cabernet Franc-ish; in fact, the overall impression is as much Cabernet Franc as Sauvignon.  89 Drink-2019

Cabernet Sauvignon: To Blend or Not to Blend

One of the questions I’ve begun to think about as I start the research for my book on Cabernet Sauvignon is whether the traditional difference between blended wines in Bordeaux but varietal wines in Napa is still justified.

Blending in Bordeaux originated as a protection against failure of any one variety in a climate that was marginal (at least for the varieties being grown). Cabernet Sauvignon did not ripen reliably every year on the left bank, so blending with varieties that ripened more easily (originally with Malbec, later with Merlot) offered two advantages: adding riper flavors to the wine than would be obtained with Cabernet Sauvignon alone; and being able to vary the composition of the blend to respond to failures and successes each year. It also allowed more vineyard area to be cultivated, since Merlot will ripen in spots where Cabernet is not successful. (On the right bank, of course, Cabernet Sauvignon is even harder to ripen and so is generally replaced by Cabernet Franc, but the same principle applies). Even today, with warmer vintages and better viticulture, there is still significant variation in annual usage of each variety; Chateau Palmer, for example, has varied from 40% Cabernet Sauvignon to 68% in the first decade of this century.

The contrasting focus on monovarietal wine in Napa Valley comes partly from the move to varietal labeling that was stimulated by Frank Schoonmaker after the second world war, and which became standard in the New World. (Before then, most wines were labeled by reference to Europe with generic names such as Claret or Burgundy.) Of course, at first the situation in California was not in fact too different from that in Europe, because the rules were so lax that a wine could be labeled with a varietal name so long as it had more than 50% of the variety. Slowly the rules became tightened until reaching today’s minimum limit of 75%. The rationale for making monovarietal Cabernet Sauvignon is that the grapes ripen more reliably in Napa than they did in Bordeaux, the result being that the mid palate is full of fruit, and does not need to be filled in by Merlot or other varieties. Proponents of monovarietals would argue that Cabernet Sauvignon achieves a full flavor spectrum in Napa without needing assistance from other varieties, in fact, I suppose they might take this argument to the logical conclusion of saying that you can only really appreciate the full varietal force of Cabernet Sauvignon if you don’t weaken it with other varieties.

But do these arguments for a fundamental difference in approach still hold up? In the past two decades, climate change has seen temperatures in Bordeaux warm to basically those that Napa showed in the 1970s. Napa has also warmed up a bit, but the gap has narrowed. Climate change has caused somewhat of a change in attitude to winemaking. One of the themes of my book is that prior to 1982, the issue in Bordeaux was trying to get Cabernet to ripeness; the issue in Napa was taming the ripeness to achieve a Bordeaux-like elegancy. Post 1982, a change in consumer attitudes meant that riper, fuller wines were desirable – no more of that touch of herbaceousness that characterized traditional Bordeaux. Coupled with the move to picking on “phenolic ripeness” rather than sugar levels, this led to increasing alcohol levels in the wines. Now the problem everywhere is to control the ripeness. It’s still true that Napa reaches greater ripeness than Bordeaux, typically resulting in an extra per cent of alcohol.

Is it the case that this extra ripeness means that Cabernet Sauvignon is complete in itself or is it true rather that blending even with small amounts of other varieties increases complexity? Should the Bordelais reconsider their view that monovarietal Cabernet Sauvignon is uncouth; or should the Napa producers move to blending in at least a little Merlot to add variety? Before trying to answer this question, it seems to me that the basic facts need to be established. After all, wines labeled as Cabernet Sauvignon in Napa can have up to 25% of other varieties, and even small amounts of secondary varieties can have a significant effect on taste. I remember a blending exercise we did on a Master of Wine trip to Bordeaux where it was surprising what a difference it made to the feeling of completeness in the overall blend when just a tiny percentage of Petit Verdot was included. The question is whether in comparing Bordeaux and Napa we are comparing blended wine with monovarietal wine, or whether we are comparing wines blended with a smaller overall proportion of Cabernet Sauvignon with wines blended with a greater proportion.  So I propose to begin by trying to establish the constitution of wines that are varietal-labeled by determining just how many are really 100% Cabernet and how many have a minor component of another variety. That should be the starting point for an investigation of whether the best wines will be made by blending in Bordeaux but not in Napa. Of course, the answer might depend to some extent on the criteria: mine will be for complexity and elegance in the wine.

In the Médoc, there is a de facto association between quality and Cabernet Sauvignon. The first growths have higher average levels of Cabernet Sauvignon than the second growths, the other grand cru classés are lower, and cru bourgeois are lower yet. (Some of the top wines have more than the 75% Cabernet Sauvignon that would be required for them to be labeled as varietals in Napa!) Whether this is due to the fact that the first growths have better terroir (that is, more reliably capable of ripening Cabernet Sauvignon) or is due to more commercial factors is hard to say, but the fact is that there’s a correlation (albeit rather a loose one) between proportion of Cabernet Sauvignon and position in the marketplace. What does this tell us about Napa, where the majority of wines have more than 75% Cabernet Sauvignon (that is, are varietal-labeled), although they do not necessarily show a price advantage over other Cabernet-based wines. Some of the most expensive cult wines are labeled as Cabernet Sauvignon, others as Proprietary Red. (Of course, whether the varietal-labeled wines are monovarietal remains to be seen.) Cabernet-based wines are certainly at the top of Napa’s hierarchy, but they don’t have to be varietal-labeled.

Which leads me to another thought. The difference between wines of the Médoc and Napa Valley has narrowed since the turning point of 1982. There is a convergence on what is sometimes called the “international” style, focusing on fruits. Partly this is due to Bordeaux closing the temperature gap with Napa, partly it is due to adoption of shared attitudes on viticulture and vinification. (Also notable is the fact that Bordeaux has increasingly moved in the direction of Merlot to obtain those richer flavors: plantings of Cabernet Sauvignon in Bordeaux peaked at 32% in 1990 but today are only 24%, although the Médoc remains around 60%.) It is definitely more difficult to be confident of distinguishing the wines in blind tastings. So to what extent are the differences due to the focus on blending in Bordeaux as opposed to varietal focus in Napa? Would the answer become clear from a comparative tasting of Meritage wines (Bordeaux-like blends from Napa) against Napa or Bordeaux? And of course back to the basic question: what makes the best wine?