Tag Archives: Cabernet Sauvignon

Are Clones Important for Cabernet Sauvignon?

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Seems like a silly question, but I’ve been struck by a great difference when talking with producers of Cabernet about clones compared to my experience with Pinot Noir. It’s a really hot button issue for Pinot, with all extremes of opinion from those who think that the Dijon clones have basically rescued Pinot Noir from failure, to those who believe that their widespread adoption is leading to a homogenization of Pinot typicity that will all but destroy the variety. Opinions are much calmer with Cabernet. Many Bordeaux producers say that they use clones when replanting, but when asked which clones, shrug and say that they can’t remember the numbers. The general impression you get in both Bordeaux and Napa is that clones affect yield more than character. But on my recent visit to Napa, I was able to taste wines specifically vinified from individual clones, and the results were revealing.

The choice of clones in Napa today may be as wide as anywhere in the world. In addition to the new ENTAV clones from France, there is a series of heritage clones. The workhorse clones of Cabernet Sauvignon in California in the 1970s and 1980s were clones 7 (also known as the Concannon or Wente clone) and clone 8, both of which were taken as cuttings from the same vine at the Concannon Vineyard in Livermore. Clone 6 originated with nineteenth century imports into California from Bordeaux (the Jackson clone, rescued from an abandoned vineyard). Clone 4, the Mendoza clone, which was imported from Argentina. (It was incorrectly labeled as Merlot clone 11 when it arrived!) And there are many others. The best known of the new clones from France is 337, which I rapidly discovered is basically Cabernet’s equivalent to the Dijon clones: it’s reliable, gives reasonable yields of smallish berries, and has fruit-forward flavors.

One of the most knowledgeable people about clones is Anthony Bell, who was in charge of an extensive clonal trial at Beaulieu in the eighties. He told me that out of 14 clones that were tested, those with the greatest Cabernet typicity were #4 and #6. This can be a mixed bag, since not everyone likes the classic typicity, which implies a touch of herbal character. This may be responsible for the recent success of clone 337. “I think it lacks varietal typicity in California – it allows winemakers to create the fruit-driven style of Cabernet that tends to be a favorite of the media,” explained Anthony. “If you want to pick late and make very extracted wines, 337 allows you to do this in spades.” By contrast, clone 6 gives very small straggly bunches, and tends to show more herbal character: Bell picks this last, not so much to increase sugar, as to get to phenolic ripeness. Yields with clone 6 are so pitiful compared to the others that most producers won’t grow it, and certainly it does not seem to be economically advisable.

Bell Wine Cellars makes wine from clones 6, 4, 7, and 337, and a tasting of the separate bottlings gave a fascinating insight. Clone 7 and clone 4 have similar profiles, but on clone 7 you see the fruits first, and this reverses on clone 4 where you see the herbal influence first. The most striking difference is between clone 337, which shows the most lush profile and clone 6, which has the most traditional austerity.

The style at Bell tends to European restraint, so I wondered whether this tends to bring out the differences between the clones more than would be the case of ripeness were pushed to greater extremes. But my next tasting was with Fred Schrader, who produces a series of single vineyard Cabernets from within Beckstoffer’s To Kalon vineyard, three representing individual clones, and one a blend. These are wines made in a rich and powerful style, but the character of vineyard and clone shines clearly through. Clone 337 is the most open and obviously fruit-driven, and clone 4 has more structure. I do not think you could use the phrase “herbal” in conjunction with Schrader wines, but let’s say that the clone 6 had more reserve, more evident structure and longevity, than the others. What about the blend? According to conventional wisdom, it should be more complex than any of the parts. Certainly it was impressive, but it did not strike me as more interesting than clone 6 or clone 4 alone. But it’s early to tell.

There seemed no doubt that, in these two comparisons of wines in very different styles, the clones have different characters. Some of the difference may come from the yields, especially that increase in austerity of clone 6. It would be fascinating to measure levels of pyrazine production by the different clones, since that is the main factor determining perception of herbal character, and see whether that correlates directly with their styles, or perhaps whether it forces different decisions about ripeness that affect perception of style. Of course, it’s entirely another issue whether yet greater complexity would be obtained by sticking to selection massale to propagate a greater variety of vines from the vineyard instead of the restricted selection of one or a few clones.

Bell Wine Cellars Tastings

Clone 7, Napa 2008, 13.9%

Medium to deep purple color. The first expression on the nose shows as black fruits, followed by a subtle touch of herbs and cereal. The palate shows black fruits of damsons and bitter cherries, with tight, elegant lines. Some fine tannins are present on the finish with a faint touch of heat, 90 Drink 2013-2023

Clone 4, Napa, 2008, 14.0%

Medium to deep, ruby to purple color. A herbal touch of tarragon shows on the nose, just ahead of the black fruits of plums and cherries. This has similar components on the nose to clone 7, but they appear in reverse order. The black fruit palate shows more cherries than plums, with very fine grained tannins, and more chocolaty than clone 7. Just a touch more flavor interest and length on the finish here. 91 Drink 2013-2024.

Clone 337, Napa, 2008, 13.8%

Medium to deep, ruby to purple color. Slightly austere, cedary impression to black fruit nose, leading int a touch of chocolate. The fruits are softer and more rounded on the palate, a touch more aromatic, showing more as plums than cherries. Smooth, fine grained tannins coat the palate, where the more opulent character of this clone really comes out, reducing the impression of Cabernet typicity. 90 Drink 2013-2020.

Clone 6, Rutherford, 2008, 13.2%

Herbal impression on the nose is more evident here, just short of showing as bell peppers, with black cherries underneath. Black fruits on the palate are more cherries than plums, a little more loose knit on the palate, with quite soft, ripe, tannins. The impression of Cabernet typicity in the form of those herbal notes is really clear on the nose, but a bit more subdued on the palate, which hasn’t yet really opened out. 91 Drink 2013-2022.

Schrader Cellars Tastings

Napa,  RBS To Kalon Beckstoffer, 2009, 14.5%

This is 100% clone 337, at yields of 3.5 tons/acre.

Perfumed black fruit nose with the perfume intensifying in the glass. You can see the dense black cherry fruits holding back on the palate. Ripe rounded tannins with more than a touch of chocolate on the finish. Yet this is the most open on the palate of the Beckstoffer bottlings. Powerful, with an overall chocolaty impression. 94 Drink 2014-2031.

Napa T6, To Kalon Beckstoffer, 2009, 14.6%

This is 100% clone 6 at yields of only 2 tons/acre.

A touch of perfume on the nose is just a bit less intense than the RBS. Restrained black fruits dominate the palate, showing as chocolate-coated cherries. Ripe tannins are subsumed by the fruits, and are evident only by dryness on the finish. This brooding monster will open slowly and live for ever. It’s nowhere near releasing its full potential yet. 95 Drink 2016-2033

Napa, CCS, To Kalon Beckstoffer, 2009, 14.4%

This comes from clone 4 at 3-4 tons/acre.

There’s an impression of nuts and cereals as well as black fruits on the nose. The black fruits of the palate are quite restrained, held back by the firm, fine-grained tannins. Very long term aging potential. 95 Drink 2015-2033.

Napa, Schrader, To Kalon Beckstoffer, 2009, 14.6%

This is a blend of clones 337 and 4 and 6, at 3-4 tons/acre, but not from the same blocks as the others.

Initial impression on the nose is a chocolate coating to black cherries, and then a faint herbal note develops in the glass. This is more open than CCS but less than 337, chocolaty on the palate with firm tannins drying the finish. Clearly needs a lot more time. 93 Drink 2015-2031.

When Should You Send Wine Back at a Restaurant?

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I hate sending wine back at a restaurant. Of course I will do this when a bottle is flawed, but there’s always the potential for some disagreement or unpleasantness. My working rule is that this is appropriate only when the wine is clearly flawed, not merely because I don’t like it. Usually this is because the bottle is corked, and in the vast majority of cases the sommelier accepts immediately that the bottle is defective, but occasionally there is a sommelier who doesn’t recognize the taint and is awkward about it. But I was brought to a new question this week by a wine that was so poor – although technically it was not flawed by being corked or oxidized or having any other single identifiable defect – that I wondered whether being completely atypical should count as a reason for rejection.

Increasing problems with premature oxidation of white Burgundy have made this, my staple when I want a white wine in a restaurant, more of a risky venture when the wine is more than a year or so old. Once again, most sommeliers will recognize madeirization as a flaw, but from time to time I’ve had difficulties with this, especially in France. “These are the typical aromas of the vintage,” a sommelier explained patronizingly to me at a grand restaurant in Provence when a white Burgundy was madeirized. As politely as I could, I said that I had a cellar full of that vintage and none had this problem. With very bad grace, he agreed to take the bottle back, but warned me to order a different vintage, because all his wines of that vintage had the same problem. The storage conditions must have been terrible. These days I have taken whenever ordering a white Burgundy to asking at the outset whether it has any problem with oxidation. Often enough a sommelier will say there have been problems, and advises me to choose something else. But having asked the question, at least I then feel free to send the bottle back if there is any taint by oxidation.

Given the erratic nature of cork taint, there would not be much point in asking whether a wine is likely to be corked, but even with this most easily recognizable flaw, there can be doubt. When a bottle is well and truly tainted, it’s a fairly easy decision to reject, but this can be more difficult when there’s a subthreshhold level of taint, enough to suppress the fruits but not enough to show any clear evidence of TCA on the nose. Actually, I think this is a killer for the producer: if you don’t know this particular producer, you can easily conclude that he’s no good rather than that the wine is flawed. In such cases I have usually felt obliged to stay with the bottle. When you have a clear expectation for the wine, you may be able to say fairly that it is flawed. But given people’s widely varying sensitivities to cork taint, there can be problems in marginal cases. My most amusing incident was at the restaurant Les Bacchanales in Vence, where a bottle of a recent vintage white Burgundy was suspiciously lacking in fruits. When I expressed concern, the waiter took it over to the diner at the next table, who was a local dignitary on the wine and food scene. We could hear him saying, “no, I do not see any problem here,” which the waiter duly came back to report. As the taint was slowly becoming more evident, I stood my ground, and indeed a substitute bottle was vastly better, A few minutes later the chef came out. “I do apologize,” he said, that bottle is terribly tainted. “I would not even cook with it.” So here we had a living demonstration of variation in sensitivity, increasing from the food writer to the chef, where I was uncomfortably the piggy in the middle. That’s why it can be so difficult.

This week I am visiting producers of Cabernet Sauvignon in Napa Valley as part of the research for my next book, Claret & Cabs. My usual habit is to try to perform a reality check at dinner by having a wine that we have tasted at a producer, to see whether experiencing a whole bottle with food gives me the same impression as a tasting. However, having dinner at the Auberge du Soleil, I was so offended by the markups on the Napa Cabernets that I decided to try something else. My usual experience in wine regions is that restaurants showcase the local producers, and while it would be naive to expect to find bargains on the wine list, often there is some wine, perhaps an older vintage that hasn’t been terribly marked up, that offers an interesting experience without completely breaking the bank. Slowly I have become adjusted to markups moving from two fold to more than three fold, but at over four times retail prices, I draw the line. One example makes the point. The Spottswoode Napa Cabernet 2000 is $360 on the list at Auberge – but the restaurant at Domaine Chandon has it at $160. Now I’m prepared to believe that expenses are higher at Auberge, but not that they justify a price of more than double compared to another good local restaurant. The wine averages around $80 at retail, so the markup at Auberge is well over my line.

So I did something I have not done before and ordered a wine from another region altogether, in fact from Burgundy, as  I thought a lighter style anyway would fit better with our particular meal. This was the Nuits St. Georges 2005 from Confuron-Cotetidot. I think it’s a reasonable expectation that in 2005 any decent producer should have been able to make an acceptable wine at communal level. But this was a throwback to the old days of Nuits St. Georges, and I do not mean that as a compliment. It had no nose at all and no fruit could be detected on the palate. If this had been a Bourgogne AOC, I would have shrugged and said that I expected a better result in this vintage. But this tasted (if the word taste can be used at all in conjunction with this wine) as though it had been overcropped to hell. I hesitated, but decided that as it had no detectable flaw, it would be unfair to send it back. However, when the wine deteriorated in the glass to the point that all you could taste was a medicinal acidity, I called over the sommelier and asked her to taste it. “Ah it has racy acidity, a bit surprising for 2005,” she said. I explained that my problem was more with the lack of fruit, and she wondered whether decanting would help. I did not feel that decanting could bring out nonexistent fruit, however. She offered to bring another wine, but I did not feel like starting another bottle at this point (and I had somewhat lost confidence in the selection of Burgundy), but we ended up with a couple of glasses of the Beaux Frères Willamette Pinot Noir from 2008 (surprisingly taut for this producer and vintage), but definitely wine as opposed to the previous mix of acid and water.

I still hold to the position that you can’t send a wine back just because you don’t quite like it, and  I cringe at the thought of imagining flaws because a wine fails to come up to expectation. But in retrospect, I think perhaps I should have rejected this wine at the outset, without crossing the line, on the grounds that it was so far from the typicity of Nuits St. Georges that it was unreasonable for it to be presented on the wine list. Here is the tasting note

J.Confuron-Cotetidot, Nuits St. Georges, 2005

No nose at all. Rather characterless and lacking fruit on the palate, seems dilute and overcropped. No obvious flaws, but only a thin somewhat medicinal, slightly acid, quality to the palate. Only fruit character is an amorphous somewhat flat medicinal note. Would not be a credit to the Bourgogne AOC. 75 points.

Where Has All the Cabernet Gone?

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Bordeaux is the world’s largest producer of Cabernet Sauvignon, with 28,000 hectares planted. Only a small part – perhaps 15% – goes into wines dominated by Cabernet Sauvignon; the rest is blended into wines where the dominant component is Merlot. Generally unknown, but running a fairly close second in plantings, is the south of France, with 22,000 hectares altogether in Languedoc and Provence (mostly in Languedoc). But how many interesting Cabernet-driven do you know from the south? What are they doing with all that Cabernet?

I spent a week in the Languedoc last month looking for Cabernet as part of the research for my book Claret & Cabs. I found half a dozen interesting producers and obtained a renewed respect for the practice of blending, whether with Bordeaux varieties or others. I wanted to know whether Cabernet Sauvignon in the south retained a typicity like Bordeaux or more resembled the warmer climates where it is grown in the New World.

I started my tour at Finca Narraza in Roussillon, not far from Perpignan just north of the Pyrenees, where Corinne and Gérard le Jan have a twenty year old vineyard of Cabernet Sauvignon. Interestingly, there’s just as much vintage variation here as in Bordeaux. Cabernet does well when the climate is Atlantic, but can be difficult to handle when it rains and the wind comes from the mountains or when the weather is too hot and it ripens too quickly. The main cuvée is an equal blend of Cabernet and Syrah, and the dominant influence seems to vary with the year. In either case, it’s fair to say that the wine shows more the aromatic influence of the south than of Bordeaux.

An interesting opportunity to see what a Bordeaux blend achieves in the south came from Verena Wyss, near Pezenas.  In the Belcanto cuvée, the structure of the Cabernet comes through quite clearly, but the aromatics are more those of the south, fruity and perfumed, than of the more savory tradition of Bordeaux. “There is no problem ripening here; it  is warmer and drier than Bordeaux. The training system needs to protect the fruit against excess heat, the opposite of tradition in Bordeaux where it needs to ensure good sun exposure. The problem here is not getting good maturity, it is avoiding over-maturity; the only answer is to harvest when the grapes are ready and not wait too long,” says Verena.

Another interesting insight came from the ability of Petit Verdot to ripen reliably in this climate,  which enables Verena to produce the La Tonga blend of 60% Cabernet to 40% Petit Verdot. Her I felt that the spiciness of Petit Verdot dominated the palate, making an attractive young wine, but I wondered whether it would age well. I received a partial answer when I visited Marc Benin at the Domaine de Ravanès, just a little farther west, where there is both a 100% Petit Verdot and a 50:50 blend of Petit Verdot with Merlot. “I don’t want to make a Bordeaux, I want to make a wine of the Languedoc, but with the Bordelais varieties. Here the Petit Verdot achieves the same maturity as the Cabernet Sauvignon and gives an interesting, structured wine,” Marc told me. Tasting these wines from 2002 and 2000 showed that Petit Verdot really matures very slowly indeed; I was left uncertain whether it would ultimately develop the same interest with age as Cabernet Sauvignon. But a vertical tasting of monovarietal Cabernet Sauvignon from 2007 back to 1995 showed some difficulty in getting a complete structural balance. The youngest vintage showed nicely concentrated fruits, but still a good way to go to maturity. “The Cabernet can be too strong. It’s not ready to drink straight away, you need to wait 3-4 years,” Marc said, explaining why he now blends the Cabernet with Merlot. Older vintages showed nice development, much along the lines of traditional Bordeaux, with savory and even herbaceous elements coming out. I was left with the impression that, just as in Bordeaux itself, blending produces a more complete and complex wine. A similar classic impression came from the Cabernet-Merlot blends at Domaine de Perdiguier, close by, where I revisited the question as to the typicity of Cabernet Sauvignon in the south. These wines sufficiently resembled Bordeaux AOC as to provoke me into realizing that by now I had made the transition into looking for something different in the south.

The pioneer for Cabernet Sauvignon in the Languedoc is Mas de Daumas Gassac, where the blend has now settled down at around 80% Cabernet Sauvignon with the remaining 20% consisting of a wide range of varieties, including the traditional Bordeaux varieties. The other varieties vary somewhat: initially they were mostly Malbec, Tannat, and Merlot; by 1990 they were described as Cabernet Franc, Syrah and Merlot; and today the label just says “several other varieties.” Daumas Gassac is not looking for the modern jammy fruity style. “We belong more to the Bordeaux 1961 attitude—wine with 12.5% alcohol and good acidity. Only 15% new oak is used to get finesse. The wine is no more typical of Bordeaux than it is Languedoc,” says Samuel Guibert, the current winemaker.

Almost adjacent, however, is the Domaine de la  Grange des Pères, where the attitude is almost the antithesis of Daumas Gassac but the wines are equally interesting. Daumas Gassac today, albeit way off the beaten track, is a modern facility with a snazzy tasting room, and constant trek of visitors.  Grange des Pères has a utilitarian appearance, it’s not especially easy to make an appointment with Laurent Vaillé who is nothing if not reticent, but the rendezvous, if successful, takes place in the working cave, where samples can be tasted from barriques. The wine is a blend of roughly equal proportions of Syrah and Mourvèdre with a minor component of 20% Cabernet Sauvignon. Minor, but essential. “The Cabernet Sauvignon is like salt in food. I do not want Cabernet Sauvignon to dominate my assemblage. Grange des Pères should have a southern character, but with freshness and that’s what the Cabernet Sauvignon brings,” says Laurent. Tasting barrel samples, you can see what each variety brings to the blend. All are rich and powerful with a good level of tannins, the Syrah full of rich, deep back fruits, the Mourvèdre distinctly spicy, and the Cabernet herbal and fresh. It’s not so much the acidity of the Cabernet as such, but the tightness of its structure that freshens the blend. Without it, the wine would have more of that jammy fruit character of warm climates. So here the Cabernet in effect is playing a moderating role on the sheer fruit character of the other varieties: almost exactly the opposite of the role it plays elsewhere as a “cépage ameliorateur” in strengthening weak varieties.

Over in Provence, the pioneer for blending Cabernet Sauvignon with Syrah was Eloi Dürrbach, who planted the vineyards at Domaine de Trévallon, near Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, just south of Avignon, in 1973. In the (relatively) cool microclimate at Trévallon, the two cépages play the traditional complementary roles: Cabernet Sauvignon can be austere, but Syrah softens it (without acquiring the jammy notes of the southern Rhône). Barrel samples of the two varieties before assemblage (which takes place only just before bottling) show more similarities than differences: in the 2010 vintage, both cépages showed dense black fruits with good tannic support, with the Syrah just a touch more aromatic and the Cabernet just a touch sterner. The interesting comparison was with a pre-assemblage blend, made because there wasn’t enough of either separate cépage to fill another foudre.  The increase of complexity was obvious, combining roundness with precision, sternness with aromatics. Usually the Syrah is a little more evident as an influence than the Cabernet, says Antoine Dürrbach, but it varies from year to year. There is no attempt here at instant gratification: usually the wine does not open up for ten years, he told me, but then it will last another decade. Indeed, the 2001 vintage was just beginning to open up in October 2011. I would be inclined to say that it has something of the aromatics of the south combined with the texture of Bordeaux. The whole is certainly greater than you might expect from the sum of the parts tasting the individual varieties.

My last stop to investigate blends of Cabernet with southern varieties was at Domaine Richeaume, farther east in Provence, located just underneath Mont Sainte Victoire. The backdrop to the vineyards could be a painting by Cézanne. There’s a small production of monovarietal Cabernet Sauvignon, the Columelle cuvée of Cabernet and Syrah, with a small component of Merlot, and the Tradition cuvée which is equal Cabernet Sauvignon and Grenache. The Cabernet gives the impression that seems to prevail with a monovarietal all the way from Bordeaux to Provence: more precision and elegance than the other varieties or even than the blends, but less completeness, just not quite filling in entirely on the mid palate. Syrah by itself goes the other way: lovely aromatics to the fore. Columelle is a good compromise: Syrah aromatics with that structure of Cabernet underneath. I wasn’t quite sure with the Tradition whether Grenache was filling in the fleshiness the Cabernet lacks by itself, or whether the Cabernet was giving structure to an amorphous Grenache, but it did not seem to me that the marriage was a complementary as Cabernet and Merlot.

They are quite disdainful in Bordeaux about growing Cabernet in the south. “It’s a big mistake,” the Directeur at one second growth blurted out when I asked what he thought about growing Cabernet there. “There isn’t any Cabernet in Languedoc,” one senior figure on the Bordeaux wine scene said, when I mentioned that I was visiting Cabernet producers there. But there are certainly interesting wines, based on Cabernet Sauvignon or containing a significant proportion of it, in Languedoc and Provence. They are no challenge to Bordeaux, not because they are necessarily inferior to it, but because their overall flavor spectrum is different: whether the Cabernet is a monovarietal, blended with Bordeaux varieties, or blended with other varieties, it takes on at least a partial tinge of the aromatics of the south. But none of the top wines fit into the rules for AOC, and they have not been imitated to any significant extent by others. So they create no halo effect to lift up the region. And in terms of the total production of Cabernet Sauvignon in Languedoc and Provence, my attempts to identify wines of character might account perhaps for a couple of hundred of the twenty thousand hectares. What are they doing with the rest?

The vast majority of Cabernet Sauvignon in the Languedoc goes into relatively inexpensive brands, produced on a relatively large scale for France. In fact, the Languedoc is France’s largest source for varietal-labeled Cabernet Sauvignon.  (The authorities would not give me any official figures for production of Cabernet Sauvignon in the Vin de Pays of the Languedoc, but I calculate there must be around 10 million cases of Cabernet Sauvignon or wines based on Cabernet. This compares with a total production for generic AOC Bordeaux of around 25 million cases, most of which has Cabernet Sauvignon only as a minor component.) Should the Bordelais be quite so disdainful of the varietal-labeled brands under the Vin de Pays labels? Given the inroads that have been made into the market at the level of Bordeaux AOC by varietal-labeled New World wines, isn’t the Languedoc more a threat by fifth column since it combines the mystique of being French with the varietal-labeling that appeals at this level of the market, and a more forward, fruit-driven style?

Finca Narraza, Vin de France, 2008

This equal blend of Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon shows an impenetrable black color. A touch of reduction on the nose rapidly blows off. The black fruits of cherries and plums show an impressive density on the palate, supported by fresh acidity and firm tannins that are integrating nicely. The impression in this vintage is dominated more by Syrah than Cabernet, as indicated by the rich, plummy aromatics. It’s a more powerful wine than the 2009, albeit just a touch rustic in its overall impression. It will no doubt show greater smoothness in a year or so and should drink well for up to a decade. 89 Drink 2013-2021.

Finca Narraza, Vin de France, Cuvée Raoul Blondin, 2008

An impenetrable black color with a stern nose, although this is 80% Syrah and 20% Cabernet Sauvignon. Some savage notes to the nose resemble Syrahs of the northern Rhone. The dense black fruits on the palate are ripe and unctuous, deep and long, with a chocolaty texture. The Cabernet Sauvignon gives extra backbone to this basically Syrah-dominated wine. The structure is somewhat buried under the density of fruits but should support aging for a decade. A very fine effort. 90 Drink 2013-2021.

Verena Wyss, IGP d’Oc, La Tonga, 2007

This wine is a blend of 60% Cabernet Sauvignon and 40% Petit Verdot.  Spicy nose has intense aromatics. The classic notes of Petit Verdot are really evident, with a peppery spiciness on the nose showing as all-spice on the palate, which is full of flavor and character. The deep fruits show as blackcurrants and plums, with ripe tannins in the background. The Petit Verdot gives that Rolls Royce sense of power, but does it make the flavor spectrum just a touch monotonic? 90 Drink-2020.

Verena Wyss, IGP d’Oc, Belcanto, 2007

Belcanto is a Bordeaux-like blend of 60% Cabernet Sauvignon, 30% Merlot, and 10% Petit Verdot. It shows a medium to deep ruby color with a touch of garnet indicating the first development. The restrained nose gives an impression of black fruit with some floral notes. The underlying structure shows the influence of Cabernet Sauvignon quite clearly, with smooth black fruits supported by ripe tannins. At first the tannins hide behind the fruits, but then they come through to show as dryness on the finish. This elegant wine is certainly Old World not New World, but shows a touch more overt aromatics than would be found in Bordeaux. 90 Drink now-2021.

Domaine de Ravanès, Coteaux de Murveil VDP, Petit Verdot, 2008

Petit Verdot matures well in the Languedoc, offering the opportunity to make a varietal wine. Actually, the Petit Verdot at Ravanès is usually kept for blending into the top wines, but in this year it was interesting enough to make a monovarietal, without wood exposure. The year had a dilute character overall, but the wine shows the purity of the Petit Verdot fruits. The spicy nose might easily lead you to believe there had been oak exposure. Dense fruits show purity of line similar to varietal Cabernet. This shows very well as a young wine, but there is a certain direct focus that suggests aging won’t bring out real flavor complexity. You can certainly see what Petit Verdot brings to a blend. 88 Drink now-2016.

Domaine de Ravanès, Coteaux de Murveil VDP, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2007

This was the last year a monovarietal Cabernet was produced. It is still a dark ruby purple, showing very much a Cabernet nose with austere black fruits. Ripe and rich fruits dominate the palate, supported by ripe tannins. Very good extract but still not quite ready. Nice texture: there’s no exposure to wood so the forcefulness of the Cabernet fruits comes right through from this good year. 88 Drink 2013-2018.

Château de Perdiguier, Vin de Pays des Coteaux d’Enserune, Cuvee d’en Auger, 2007

This blend of 85% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Merlot spends a year in new oak. It has more evident concentration and roundness than the regular bottling. This vintage is still a deep ruby color with little sign of development. Black fruits on the nose have an austere edge with a touch of smoke and chocolate. The palate of ripe black fruits shows a touch of classic herbaceousness on the finish, but accompanied by a chocolaty texture. Tannic support shows as dryness on the finish. 88 Drink now-2017.

Château de Perdiguier, Vin de Pays des Coteaux d’Enserune, Cuvee d’en Auger, 2001

Dark color with only a slight touch of garnet developing. Restrained but classic nose with those herbaceous hints of bell peppers. Nicely rounded on the palate with good freshness and attack; the bell peppers come back on the finish. This gives a rather classic impression of a Cabernet Sauvignon dominated wine, although it’s half Cabernet and half Merlot. 87 Drink now-2014.

Mas de Daumas Gassac, Vin de Pays de l’Hérault, 2008

This is an elegant wine with Cabernet Sauvignon represented in a lighter style. Fresh on the nose and palate with a slight spiciness and some aromatic complexity. The Cabernet is identified by notes of cedar, with  lively fruits on the palate which show a faint savory touch of the garrigue. For the south this is a restrained style. Good variety of flavor across the palate supported by an unobtrusive structure with tannins well in the background.  88 Drink-2017

Mas de Daumas Gassac, Vin de Pays de l’Hérault, 2006

Nose shows fresh red fruits and a touch of nuts with intimations of complexity. Elegant fruits on the palate, following the red spectrum of the nose. There’s a touch of savory influence from the garrigue. Opening up in the glass, the wine shows its delicacy, yet with the fine structure and tannic support of Cabernet. It brings back memories of some of the more delicate older vintages of Bordeaux.  90 Drink-2016

Domaine de Trévallon, 2001

This vintage is just beginning to start its evolution. It’s a medium density color with some garnet on the rim. The nose is quite developed, and shows gunflint with a touch of some tertiary barnyard aromas. The palate is less developed than the nose, showing ripe blackcurrants and plums, but the tertiary notes come back on the finish. Tannins show as dryness on the finish. Personally I’d wait another couple of years for the peak, after which the wine should hold for some time.  91 Drink now-2020.

Domaine Richeaume, Vin de France, Columelle, 2009

Black fruits drive the nose. Freshness on the palate cuts the ripeness of the fruits, which show the typical aromatics of Syrah. Although the Syrah dominates the palate, there’s a sense of restraint and finesse, which is perhaps due to the Cabernet. The overall impression is fine grained and elegant. 30% of American oak was used here. 90 Drink 2012-2020.

Domaine Richeaume, Vin de France, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2008

Some evolution on the nose has occurred in the last year. It’s a touch reduced, with some hints of gunflint and a touch of barnyard. The black fruits are quite stern on the palate. This is less open, less overtly fruity than the Cabernet blends. The good fruit concentration comes back on the finish where ripe tannins are evident. The developed notes of barnyard certainly cut the fruits: it’s an interesting question whether they will become complex enough to offset the lightening of concentration as further maturation occurs. This wine was matured exclusively in French oak. 88  Drink 2012-2018.


Bordeaux 1996: the Throwback Vintage

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A tasting of 1996 Bordeaux gave me pause for thought about the quality and longevity of the vintage. Hailed at the time as a great vintage, 1996 had a promising start to the season, but rain around harvest time created problems. The wines have always had high acidity and tannins, but the promise was that they would come around to be classics. Certainly the vintage seemed likely to be throwback to the vintages that preceded the transition to the modern era in 1982, except that one might expect more concentration from improvements in viticulture and vinification (especially the introduction of sorting). But I am inclined to a revisionist view after this tasting, which suggested to me that the wines are better than average, but this is far from a great vintage. It is not the vintage of the century, it is not even the vintage of the decade (that award goes to 1990, which although not completely even is wearing better). Yes, there are some excellent wines, and some that will continue to mature in classic style, but many have already reached the end of the road. The most common problem is a sort of flat flavor profile: the wines have survived and aged, but have not matured.  The fruits have never reached a savory apogee, and the tannins lack generosity, so I expect the fruits to dry out along the lines of 1975 before the tannins resolve.

The awards from this tasting go to:

Grand Puy Lacoste – the most terroir-driven wine, the quintessence of Pauillac.

Palmer – the most overtly delicious wine to drink for dinner tonight.

Margaux – the most elegant, although still yet to reach its apogee.

Latour – the longest lived, life expectancy to be measured in decades rather than years.

Tasting Notes

Château Pape Clément, 1996

“It’s the quality of Merlot that makes Pape-Clément what it is, so why is it that all the great vintages are Cabernet years? It’s the Cabernet tannins that give the real quality when they are ripe,” according to Bill Blatch. Although 1996 was a Cabernet year, however, I’ve had equivocal experiences with Pape-Clement from this vintage. In this case, the wine showed a bright garnet color with an orange rim. The Cabernet nose is quite restrained, with just a touch of cedar in typical Graves fashion. This shows as an elegant wine with a nice balance, the fruits on the finish on the verge of austerity, with good supporting acidity, and tannins drying the finish. But it seems to be aging rather than maturing, and  the Cabernet is not as dominant on the palate as you might expect from this year; the wine is not developing flavor variety or tertiary notes and seems somewhat four square;  88 Drink-2016.

Château Palmer, 1996

Medium garnet color still with some ruby hues. Restrained nose with suggestion of black fruits, soft and perfumed. Developing slowly, this is elegant and soft on the palate, with just a faint herbaceous touch coming out on the finish where there is an impression of a slight tannic bite. Perhaps the concentration falls off a bit on the finish; the wine may be at its peak right now. It is one of the most openly delicious of the vintage.  90 Drink-2019.

Château Ducru Beaucaillou, 1996

This wine showed such a surprising aroma and flavor spectrum that I wondered whether it was in fact the 96 vintage, but that was what the label said. The first oddity was the curious character of the nose, which showed a touch of over ripe, even rotten fruit. This followed through to the rich and soft palate, which seemed more like the 95 than 96 vintage or a right bank rather than left bank. Average acidity supports the fruits and makes this a pleasant enough wine in its own right, but I just could not find the typicity of St. Julien or the usual elegance of Ducru. Judgment reserved until I taste another bottle.  86 Drink-2014.

Château Léoville-Poyferré, 1996

Although Michel Rolland started consulting at Léoville Poyferré in 1994, this wine gives the impression that he hadn’t yet had time to make much impression. It still shows some of the quality that used to cause the wine to be called Léoville Voie-ferré (after the railway, and referring to a somewhat metallic tinge to the tannins). It’s a medium garnet color but still has some ruby hues. There just a faint touch of perfume on the nose with a touch of cedar, and a faintly herbaceous hint, but not much evident fruit. The palate is rather dumb, there’s an absence of concentration on the mid palate, the fruits seem a bit monotonic and lifeless, and the finish is a bit short. Evidently Michel Rolland had his work cut out to turn this around.  87 Drink-2015.

Château Léoville-Barton, 1996

Medium garnet color. The nose hints more of red fruits than black, with a faintly herbaceous note, but is somewhat subdued. The ripe quality of the fruits on the palate is evident, but even so, there is a slightly hard touch to the finish, characteristic of the vintage, with bell peppers slowly developing on the finish. This was a lovely wine, but the fruits now seem to be beginning to fade, and it is time to drink up.  87 Drink-2014.

Château Léoville Lascases, 1996

Medium garnet color. Restrained nose but gives impression of a wall of fruit, with a touch of herbaceousness. Classic palate, but seems more Pauillac than St. Julien (not that unusual for this chateau), with savory black fruits showing a herbaceous edge. Good concentration, but developing slowly. Even though it softens a bit in the glass, the overall solidity of the structure is what comes through. Tannins dry the finish, a bit ungiving in Lascases’ usual style. Should mature for many years yet.  90 Drink-2017.

Château Pichon Baron, 1996

Medium ruby color with orange at rim. Restrained nose has a touch of perfume with the faintly nutty black fruits. Ripe rich fruits show on the palate, a full style in characteristic Pauillac fashion, with just a slight tannic bite to the finish, which seems to come up a fraction short. Development here is much slower than many others in this vintage, hard to assess the future, but the overall impression is a bit chunky, and the wine is more likely to continue in that vein than to become elegant.  89 Drink-2021.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1996

Medium to deep garnet color. Restrained nose with faint black fruits, just a touch of herbaceousness coming out slowly on the finish. Ripe fruits show that herbaceous edge on the palate, with bell peppers strengthening on the finish, the sweetness of the fruits is evident, but the tannic touch strengthens on the finish, giving the impression that tannins may overtake the fruits.  89 Drink-2018.

Château Pontet-Canet, 1996

Medium garnet color. Restrained nose with subdued black fruits, just a faint hint of Cabernet Sauvignon followed by a suggestion of perfume. Sweet ripe fruits on the palate show the high proportion of Merlot (almost 40%), but the overall impression is a bit four square. There’s a touch of heat on the finish and the tannins don’t seem very generous. Medium fruit concentration, but not much development; in fact this bottle seems a fraction less developed than the last tasting, two years ago. It’s not obvious what will provide the basis for further development.  88 Drink-2017.

Château Grand Puy Lacoste, 1996

A very upright and proper claret, a great success for Grand Puy Lacoste and for the vintage. Appearance shows almost deep garnet color. Some savory and tertiary development comes on the nose, with a faint touch of bell peppers and sous bois. Black savory fruits follow on the palate, accompanied by a touch of bell peppers and cedar, with good flavor variety and development. Elegant in style, it should become more tertiary over the next decade. This is quintessential Pauillac. and shows every sign of continuing to develop along classic claret lines.  90 Drink-2021.

Château Lynch Bages, 1996

Medium garnet color. restrained nose shows faint black fruits and a barely detectable herbaceous touch. Nice solid black fruits are slowly developing on the palate, cut by faint herbaceous notes on the finish, with a touch of chocolate. There is (just) enough flavor variety to be interesting. This is very characteristic of the chateau and a good result for the vintage: it should continue to develop but a touch of bitterness on the finish needs to soften to make this completely successful.  90 Drink-2019.

Château Calon Ségur, 1996

This wine peaked about three years ago, when it showed its characteristic absolutely traditional lines of savory fruits balanced by a herbaceous finish. But now it seems to be in decline. It shows a medium to dark garnet color. There is still a classic Cabernet nose (the wine included 40% Cabernet Sauvignon and 15% Cabernet Franc this year), savory to herbaceous, with bell peppers evident. It comes over as a fairly tough wine on the palate, a little hard on the mid palate, with herbaceousness dominating the finish. The overall flavor profile seems a little flat as the fruits perhaps are beginning to dry out, and I get the impression that now the tannins will take over and outlive the fruits.  87 Drink-2016.

Château Cos d’Estournel, 1996

This wine has been up and down in tastings, perhaps due to condition problems. This was one of the better bottles. Appearance shows medium garnet color. Attractive nose has a touch of exotic perfume, turning to nutty black fruits. The palate has rich, ripe fruits cut by a touch of bell peppers. The nature of the vintage shows itself in the tannins, which bring a bitter touch to the finish. But the rich opulent style of the chateau served the wine well in this vintage by countering what became a medicinal quality in some wines. Overall impression is rich and spicy, relatively soft for St. Estèphe, as Cos now so often is, but cut by a touch of bell peppers to give complexity.  90 Drink-2019.

Château Margaux, 1996

Medium garnet color. The nose gives up a faint impression of black fruits with a tertiary edge. First growth quality is unmistakable on the palate, with that smooth, seamless elegance of black fruits, Cabernet-driven, beautifully cut by a faint touch of herbaceous bell peppers and some notes of chocolate. Aging seems quite slow, with flavor variety and complexity emerging gradually, but expect savory and tertiary development over the next decade. Still too young really.  92 Drink-2025.

Château Latour, 1996

Dark garnet color. Fairly closed nose of black fruits with some bell peppers just showing its Cabernet Sauvignon origins. Dense black fruits on the palate are developing extremely slowly, just cut by a touch of bell peppers on the finish, but what strikes one above all else is the sheer density of the fruits. A touch of the typical acidity of the vintage shows on the finish, This is one of those massive Latours that takes decades rather than years to develop.  92 Drink-2030.

Pichon Lalande Tasting

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A vertical tasting of Pichon Lalande with Sylvie Cazes in New York gave surprises about both chateau and vintages more than confirming expectations.

When I investigated second wines a few years ago, I came to the conclusion that they are indeed second best not only with regards to the grand vin of the chateau but also with regards to other wines at the same price. In comparative tastings, it usually seemed that a Cru Bourgeois at the same price point was a better wine than the second wine of a Grand Cru Classé. Since then, especially with good vintages becoming more frequent, second wines seemed to have improved somewhat, but at this tasting I was not especially impressed with either vintage of the Réserve de la Comtesse. The 2006 seemed just to be a little too thin; blind I would have taken it for a Cru Bourgeois somewhere towards the bottom of the hierarchy. The 2003 fared a bit better, but did not seem very convincing. In neither case did it seem that the second wine was a bargain based on applying the expertise of the chateau at a lower price level, which is the usual justification.

The 2005 Pichon Lalande gave real pause for thought about the vintage. I’ve never thought of Pichon Lalande as one of the most “international” of the chateaux – nothing like as exotic as Cos d’Estournel, for example – but this seemed like a throwback to the seventies. Unmistakably Cabernet-dominated, the fruits never seemed to come to life, and I was left with the impression that they might dry out before the slightly hard tannins resolve. Where was the supposed opulence of the vintage? Some notes reminded me of 1996 or 1975, with a possible imbalance developing between fruit and acidity. It definitely did not show nearly so well as the 2004, a nice wine for drinking now.

The 2003 fared relatively well insofar as it hasn’t fallen apart like so many, but nothing will persuade me that this was a great vintage, as it was being described. Where’s the elegance, where’s that traditional lightness of Bordeaux? The only thing to do with 2003s is to drink them up – or sell them off at auction.

The 2000 was a big surprise: last time I had this wine it was developing distinctly herbaceous notes. Today they showed more as cedar with some vegetal overtones. The nose was so totally different from anything else at the tasting that the lady next to me decided her glass must have a problem, and asked for another pour in a fresh glass. This wine supports those taking the minority view that for some chateaux, 2000 was not as good as 2001.

The most fascinating comparison was between the  Cabernet-driven 1996 (75% Cabernet Sauvignon) and the Merlot-driven 1995 (45% Cabernet Sauvignon). The 1996 was the one wine that was really characteristic of its vintage: very classic, savory and herbaceous – in style more like the seventies than the eighties. But I think it still has a bit too much acidity and tannin for it really to mature to a classic. By contrast, the 1995 was absolutely delicious: it’s come right around in the past five years and is the peak of perfection for a left bank Merlot, soft and supple but with adequate structure. So much for the Medoc being best in the Cabernet years.

The 1985 was for me the wine that had  it all: classic herbaceous notes in a context of ripe, sweet, but savory fruits: the wine of the tasting. This was not the vintage I would have picked out ahead of time as the most likely to excel. A few years ago the 1975 was showing as one of the best wines of the vintage, a slightly tighter version of what the 1985 has become today, but now the 75 has passed its peak, and the high toned aromatics suggest it is in decline.

The motto: never mind the Ides of March: beware the Vintage of  the Century. 1975 has never fulfilled the expectations raised at the time (vin de garde, my foot), 1996 is not going to come around (another vin de garde that won’t make it), 2000 may be going into decline, and 2005 may not make it. The wines showing best were 2004 (a lovely restaurant vintage) and 1985 (never hailed for its longevity at the outset). It ain’t so easy as they think to judge these vintages en primeur.

Tasting Notes

Réserve de la Comtesse, 2006

Slightly spicy black fruit nose gives a fresh impression. There’s a light fruit impression on the palate with a touch of vanillin. Crisp acidity leaves a tang on the finish and gives some emphasis to the light tannins. Overall impression is that the palate is driven by relatively light Cabernet fruit. A little too acid, a little too light in fruit concentration, this is relatively disappointing for the second wine of a super-second.  86 Drink-2016.

Réserve de la Comtesse, 2003

First touch of garnet in appearance suggests some development, but not much evident on fresh black fruit nose, except a bit of lightening in fruit intensity. Palate shows very good acidity for 2003, black fruits with vanillin overtones, but the fruits already are beginning to dry out and the tannins are beginning to stick out just a little. Not a bad result for the vintage but somewhat lacking in focus.  86 Drink-2014.

Pichon Lalande, 2005

Medium ruby color already with a touch of garnet. A mellow nose has a very faint touch of nuts. The palate is smooth and fresh, not at all the blockbuster you might expect from the reputation of the vintage. The overall impression is quite classically Cabernet-driven, fruits with a touch of asperity backed by tannins that don’t seem very generous, decent structure to age well, although softening a little in the glass to become nuttier. Blind I would put this down as an average rather than great year, and in short, more of a throwback to the classic style than would be expected from 2005.  88 Drink 2014-2021.

Château Pichon Lalande, 2004

A garnet touch to the color suggests some development. The fresh black fruit nose gives a faint impression of perfume. Nice balance on the palate between black fruits, just a touch of asperity from the tannins shows retronasally, but overall the tannins are quite soft. This is a very good result for the vintage, producing a wine that will drink well now and hold for a few years. A perfect restaurant wine.  88 Drink-2018.

Château Pichon Lalande, 2003

Age indicated by medium garnet color with some orange at rim. Black fruit nose shows blackcurrants and a touch of cedar, even a faint touch of herbaceousness on the nose, somewhat surprising for this vintage. Rich and chocolaty on the palate, with tannins that are ripe but giving a faint impression of being over cooked. The wine becomes a touch hard on the mid palate in the glass. It may be that the tannins will outlive the fruits. The wine is not falling apart, as many are, but it gives a slightly clumsy impression, not atypical of this vintage. It should be drunk in the near future.  87 Drink-2015.

Château Pichon Lalande, 2000

This wine is full of surprises and has changed yet again. What appeared as herbaceousness two or three years ago now shows as an intense cedary aroma on the nose, following through to palate and finish. The dusky garnet color still appears relatively youthful. It is hard to pick out the fruits on nose and palate against the background of cedar, but they seem to be in good balance with the acidity and tannins. The wine gives a very dry, classic impression: it is lean rather than opulent. 90 Drink-2021.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1996

Medium garnet color. Classic nose, with fruits turning savory, although no tertiary development yet. Completely classic on the palate, a throwback to the seventies in style, dominated by the Cabernet Sauvignon. Savory black fruits have a touch of herbaceousness, with the sense of bell peppers carrying through the long finish. The acidity is less pressing here than in some wines of the vintage. This should continue to mature in the classic style – which is to say savory with vegetal overtones rather than overtly fruity – until the tannins overtake the fruits.  89 Drink-2020.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1995

This wine is now at a delicious point, much softer and more open than the 1995. The garnet color is beginning to lighten up. The nose shows notes of nuts and semolina, giving over to slightly more vegetal notes (nut less intense than a few years ago). The palate is soft, supple, and  fleshy – the antithesis of the classic 96. This is really delicious right now; although there is decent structure, it does not have great potential longevity.  90 Drink-2016.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1985

The hit of a vertical tasting of Pichon Lalande. Lightening garnet color. Classic nose showing bell peppers and a touch of cedar. Acidity quite noticeable on the palate, which generally follows the nose. Beautiful balance, now a point with savory fruits not yet turning tertiary. Elegant and delicate, with bell peppers strengthening on finish. Very fine grained structure. A bit of a surprise that this year should end up with such a completely classic development.  92 Drink-2016.

Château Pichon Lalande, 1975

This wine probably peaked about five years ago, when it showed an absolutely classic aroma and flavor spectrum of a left bank, Cabernet-dominated wine. It’s still in the same tradition, but the fruits are beginning to dry out. It’s a lightening garnet color with a touch of high toned aromatics on the nose. The fruits on the palate start out surprisingly sweet, but the touch of bitterness intensifies in the glass: you have the sensation that the fruits are drying out in the glass, allowing the bell peppers to become more dominant on the finish. Slowly the dryness of the finish takes over.  88 Drink up.

The High Life: Wine at 37,000 feet

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Flying transatlantic isn’t a great opportunity for fine wine and dining, but there really isn’t much else to do on the flight besides eat, drink, and sleep, so I thought I’d make an assessment of the present state of the high life. Flying American Airlines from New York to London, en route to start research in Bordeaux for my book on Cabernet Sauvignon, my assessment got off to a poor start in the lounge before takeoff, when the sparkling wine was Gloria Ferrer Brut from Sonoma. Judged by the taste, Brut is clearly a misnomer. Sweet to the point of being sickly, the monotonic palate had a strong taste of green apples (although without the matching acidity you might expect), and if you had told me it was a sparkling apple cider, I would have been hard put to argue. There are some fine sparkling wines made in northern California, but this is not one of them, and proved to be a sad harbinger for what was to follow.

Things improved briefly after takeoff when the Champagne was Pommery. Now this has never been one of my favorites – it always used to strike me as too thin and lacking in fruit – but it has definitely improved since Vranken acquired the brand name in 1990. I don’t know whether taste is affected by the low pressure at altitude, but this now seems to be a respectable, if rather ordinary sparkling wine. There’s not much character to it, and the dosage is just a touch too high for my taste – I wonder whether my impression that dosage has been increasing is right or whether my palate has changed – giving an impression that sugar is being used to compensate for lack of flavor interest. The wine seems essentially uninteresting and its flat flavor profile gave me some trouble in trying to find descriptors for a tasting note. You don’t expect originality from Grand Marque Champagnes, but I still think Pommery could do a better job to disguise its mass produced origins.

The white wines offered a choice between L’Ecole No. 41 Chardonnay from Washington State and Thilion Torbato Sauvignon Blanc from Sardinia. I had some trouble distinguishing them. If I were to be unkind I would say that the Chardonnay was a forlorn attempt to achieve the New World style. The palate has been loaded with oak to disguise the lack of ripeness in the fruit. The oak flavors stand aside from the fruits, and if I didn’t know that the wine had been aged in barriques I would have wondered about the use of oak chips The oak gives a hard, disjointed, phenolic note to the finish. This is one of those rare wines that would have been improved by a shorter finish, as what mostly lingers on are those disjointed oak phenolics.

Despairing of the Chardonnay, I turned to my wife’s Sauvignon Blanc (actually a blend of Sauvignon Blanc with the indigenous grape Torbata), although its relatively deep golden color made me feel suspicious even before I tasted it. A sniff made things worse. Instead of the expected grassiness or herbaceousness came a sort of slightly astringent citrus note. Maybe this is due to the Torbata, which is supposed to have a smoky aroma. Again the palate was loaded with harsh phenolics. I would have placed this as an aromatic variety in a blind tasting, but I think I would have had some trouble recognizing Sauvignon Blanc in it. I wonder whether I would have been able to identify the wines, if I’d been given them blind and told that one was Chardonnay and one was a Sauvignon blend. It wouldn’t be easy to find varietal typicity in this pair, but perhaps the greater acidity and aromaticity would identify the Sauvignon.

On to the reds, where we tried the Villa Mount Eden Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa and the Tres Picos Garnacha. Now I remember a period in the late 1970s when Villa Mt. Eden had a great reputation. In fact, based on Robert Parker’s recommendation, I bought a case of the 1978 vintage and drank it for several years. It never achieved greatness, but was still holding up quite well in 1993 when I had the last bottle. Sic transit gloria mundi. I do not think the old style is remotely recognizable in the current wine. When I swirled and smelled the wine, I wondered if there had been a mistake as the aromas of black cherry fruits with some piquancy came up at me. No, I decided on smelling my wife’s wine, which was even more aromatic and piquant. Following to the palate, the Cabernet showed no more typicity of Cabernet than the Chardonnay had of Chardonnay. The only note of relief was an oaky vanillin that seemed artificial. I’ve never really thought of Cabernet Sauvignon as an intensely aromatic variety, but after this wine I might have to change my opinion. (To be fair, you can find some high-end Napa or Barossa Cabernets with fairly distinct aromatics, but although I don’t usually like the wines, at least I can recognize a matching concentration and fruit intensity that hangs together.)

After this, I approached the Grenache with trepidation. The only information American Airlines provided about its origins is that it is produced in Spain. It turns out to come from the Campo de Borja DO, just to the south of Navarra, where Grenache is the principal grape. I have to disagree with Robert Parker’s high ratings for this wine. Aromatic and piquant on the nose, it followed through to the palate with bright red cherry fruits and a piquancy that made me wonder about acidification, with a slightly sickly nutty end to the finish.  But I have an idea. Add a little sugar and the profile would be perfect for a dessert wine. (After this, I decided not to sample the dessert wine, which however seemed to be a perfectly respectable vintage port.)

I can’t completely exclude the possibility that my palate was out of whack at 35,000 feet, but at all events the common feature of these wines seemed to be excessive striving for intensity. Subtle they ain’t. Even at the crunched price point – I calculate that if every passenger had a glass of wine American would be spending about $2.00 per passenger – there could at least be more variety of choice.

The food was better than the wine but not by a large margin. In all the years I have been on American Airlines, the food has never been up to much. Ranging from barely edible to inedible, sometimes it strikes me as unfit for human consumption (well, consumption by this human, anyway). In the past year or two there’s been some slight improvement. There was always a tendency on American to make the food highly spiced – just what you want at 35,000 feet where you tend to get dehydrated anyway – I assume to disguise the poor quality of the ingredients, but fortunately that phase seems to have passed. Of course, the days of  Krug and caviar on transatlantic flights are long since gone, but surely they could do better than to serve dried out hot meals. I’d settle for cold salads made from better ingredients any time (but I guess the bean counters won’t wear it). In any case, I’ll leave the last word to an American flight attendant, who some years ago said to me, “We’re not fine dining, we’re transportation.”

The Best Terroir is the Best Terroir

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How far can you take terroir? It seems blindingly obvious that some sites produce better wine than others: it is not rocket science to suppose that a sunny spot in the middle of a well drained slope will produce better wine than a cool, shady, damp spot at the bottom.  And I am prepared to buy the fact that slight differences in terroir can reliably produce different nuances in the wine: I was quite convinced of this by several series of pairwise comparisons in Burgundy when I was researching my book on Pinot Noir. Other convincing examples come from comparing, for example, Ernie Loosen’s Rieslings from different vineyards in the Mosel. You can’t mistake the fact that these wines are consistently different, although all made in the same way. But the unresolved question that sticks in my mind is whether different terroirs match different grape varieties or whether the best terroirs are simply the best terroirs. (The middle of that slope would probably produce better plums, apricots, or apples than the bottom.)

I was much struck by this issue when visiting Pinot Noir producers in Germany. All of them, of course, also produce Riesling; in fact, for most of them the Pinot Noir is little more than a sideline. Everywhere in Germany, Riesling is planted in the best terroirs. Those terroirs that aren’t quite good enough for Riesling are planted with other varieties. But where is Pinot Noir planted? Are there spots that are really suitable for Pinot Noir but where Riesling would not succeed? This does not seem to be the case. Pinot Noir is a demanding grape, and it is usually planted in spots that would also have made good Riesling. The best terroirs are the best terroirs, and it’s a matter of choice whether Riesling or Pinot Noir is planted there. And as for the effect of terroir on the nature of the wine, I saw similar effects on both Pinot Noir and Riesling: more minerality, more sense of tension in the wines from the volcanic soils in the north, to rounder, fatter wines from the limestone soils in the south, and softer, lighter wines from sandstone soils in the east.

Is it a general rule that every wine region has a top variety (or varieties) that take the best terroirs? Even on the left bank of Bordeaux, where you hear a lot about the perfect match between Cabernet Sauvignon and the gravel-based soils, it’s really more the case that the gravel-based soils are the best terroirs – so Cabernet Sauvignon is planted there. Merlot is planted in the spots that couldn’t ripen Cabernet Sauvignon. I’ve yet to hear a proprietor extol a vineyard for the perfection of the match of its terroir to Merlot – I suspect the match is more faute de mieux.

Are there regions that grow multiple top varieties where we could test the argument that there are terroirs that are equally good but suited for different varieties. Burgundy seems the obvious case, where the contrast is increased by the fact that Pinot Noir is black but Chardonnay is white. Isn’t it the case that the terroirs of Puligny Montrachet, Chassagne Montrachet, and Meursault, are uniquely suited to Chardonnay whereas those of (say) Nuits St. Georges, Clos Vougeot, and Gevrey Chambertin are uniquely suited to Pinot Noir?

Not exactly. The focus of the appellations to the south of Beaune on white wine is quite recent. Until the second half of the nineteenth century, Puligny Montrachet was mostly planted with Gamay, Chassagne Montrachet was almost exclusively red, and Meursault was divided between red and white wine. The area that is now Corton Charlemagne mostly produced red wine until the twentieth century.  And in the eighteenth century, Clos Vougeot’s white wine was almost as highly regarded as Le Montrachet, as indeed was a white Chambertin. Could we at least argue that the change is due to better understanding of what grape varieties are suited to each terroir. No:  it’s the economy, stupid.

When fashion has swung to and fro on red wine versus white, plantings have followed. Here’s a modern case in point. Beaune’s Clos des Mouches is one of the few vineyards that have both black and white grapes. But there isn’t any pattern to the plantings that follows details of terroirs: in fact, rows of black and white grapevines are more or less interspersed, according to what was needed when replanting last occurred. And as Chardonnay has proved more profitable than Pinot Noir, there’s been a trend towards replanting with Chardonnay.

If the best terroirs are the best terroirs, what determines the best variety for each location? Well, climate is no doubt the most important factor: heat accumulation and hours of sunshine are basically going to determine whether and when the grapes reach ripeness.  Are the best terroirs simply those where historically the grapes have ripened most reliably? On the hill of Corton, where the plantings of Chardonnay for Charlemagne stretch round to the western end of the hill, where Pinot has trouble in ripening, you might argue that the best terroirs are planted with Pinot and second best with Chardonnay, although I have to admit that they make wonderful white Burgundy.

So here is the challenge. Are there examples where two terroirs in the same vicinity give different results with two grape varieties of the same quality (and color if we want this to be a rigorous test)? If one terroir gives better results with one variety and the other terroir gives better results with the other variety, then I will withdraw my conclusion that the best terroir is the best terroir and matching grape varieties is down to climate.

Is Ripeness All in Cabernet Sauvignon

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I’ve been mulling over the issue of ripeness as I begin the research for Claret & Cabs, because the issue seems to be exaggerated with Cabernet Sauvignon, and also with its parent Sauvignon Blanc, relative to other varieties. I think this is because they share the property that varietal character depends on production of pyrazines, in particular IBMP (3-isobutyl-2-methoxy-pyrazine for those technically inclined). Pyrazines form during vegetative growth, essentially during the period before veraison, and then are gradually destroyed by exposure to sunlight. People are very sensitive to them, which would have been an evolutionary advantage, as they are an indication of unripe fruit. IBMP gives Bordeaux its classic notes of bell peppers. This dramatic transition in flavor spectrum is not something I associate with most other varieties. With Pinot Noir, for example, there is certainly a change as the grapes pass from unripe, through ripe, to super ripe, and you see a transition from light, red acidic fruits to darker, riper, black fruits, but you don’t really see a whole flavor component completely disappearing. Is this why the “international style” has made more impact with Cabernet Sauvignon than with other varieties?

As the climate has got warmer, and as criteria for harvesting have moved to greater degrees of ripeness, the concentration of IBMP has fallen in Cabernet Sauvignon, and these days it’s quite rare to detect it in young Bordeaux. Indeed, if you mention the word “herbaceous” to a Bordeaux proprietor today, he is likely to take it as a personal insult. Herbaceousness has never been much of a character in Napa Valley Cabernet, which has always achieved a greater degree of ripeness, and I suspect that most Napa producers would actually regard it as flaw.

But have we lost something here? No one wants to go back to the days of vegetative wines – remember when they couldn’t ripen Cabernet in Monterey and the wines became known as Monterey veggies – but are the wines as interesting when they present simply a monotonic array of fruit flavors. “We need grapes that are cooked, roasted, and green; even this last is necessary; it improves in the cuve by fermenting with the others; it is this that brings liveliness to the wine,” said the Abbé Tainturier at Clos Vougeot almost three hundred years ago; I think he may have had a point. Isn’t there a key point in complexity in which the faintest, barely detectable, touch of herbaceousness brings a crucial element? Does pursuing maximum ripeness lead to optimum complexity?

Something that has been puzzling me lately is the apparent reversion to type of the 1982 Bordeaux vintage. When the wines were first bottled, they were full of lush fruits: you would have been hard put to detect herbaceousness. This is still true of the Chateau Latour, so fruit-bound, and with such with intense aromatics, that it just seems infanticide even to think of drinking of it. It won’t take fifty years to come around like the 1928, but it certainly isn’t ready yet (tasting note in Chateau Latour: Wines for the Ages). On the other hand, the Margaux has reverted to type, and I think the Lafite is about to do so. By reversion, I mean that some herbaceous notes are poking through the fruits, not at all obvious, indeed very subtle against the background of the fruit intensity, but bringing additional complexity. But where did they come from?

Pyrazines come from the grape (mostly from the skin, also from the stems if the grapes weren’t destemmed), and the concentration cannot have changed in the wine since bottling. It must be that as the tannins resolve, and the fruit concentration lightens, you begin to see pyrazines that were there all along but hidden by the fruit intensity. (So the supposed threshold for detection isn’t everything.) I must say that I did not see this coming until I detected faint herbaceous around year 2000 in the 1982 second growths. For me it’s an important contribution to complexity, so I’m puzzling over how to spot the potential in young vintages, which since 1982 have of course become even more intense in overt fruit concentration. Indeed, I wonder if and when they will go the same route as the 1982s.

 Château Margaux 1982

Has now reached a stage of perfection not to mention classicism. Developed black fruit nose has herbaceous overtones turning more distinctly to bell peppers in the glass. There’s a delicious balance of savory black fruits with a herbaceous catch on the finish. There has been a complete reversion to classical type from the lushness of the first decade, with a perfect offset between the black fruits of the palate and the herbaceous overtones of the finish.   96 Drink till 2022

Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1982

Still a dark color, although now garnet rather than purple. Black fruits are just beginning to show some development on the nose, with a hint of menthol, and a touch of austerity cutting the fruits. Typically very smooth on the palate with those layers of flavor typical of Lafite, in fact still quite youthful and fruit-driven. Tannins are now resolving but are very fine grained and ripe, the structure will keep this going for years. Smooth and elegant rather than voluptuous. 93 Drink till 2023

Cabernet Sauvignon: To Blend or Not to Blend

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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?

Daumas Gassac at Eleven Madison Park

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Bordeaux certainly remains the dominant paradigm for wines based on Cabernet Sauvignon, and its model has been pretty much adapted in the New World where often enough a little Merlot is blended in, but I found myself wondering about the potential of less conventional regions when I was faced with trying to find an older wine on the list at the restaurant Eleven Madison Park in New York. At this Michelin-starred restaurant, chef Daniel Humm has introduced a positively Spartan style of printed menu, with options for each course described in single words – artichoke, potato, tuna, langoustine, for example – requiring a good deal of amplification in order to decide on food let alone matching it with wine. This gives him quite a bit of freedom to introduce daily changes, inspired by the market in Union Square- just four blocks away – which he told me the chefs visit almost every day.

The wine list is lengthy and in some respects quite old fashioned – by which I means lots of half bottles, something you don’t see much any more – and very strong on Burgundy and also Bordeaux. My problem with restaurant lists is that I find current vintages can be a little too powerful for the food, especially when it has the subtlety of a restaurant like Eleven Madison Park, but older vintages can be rare and rather expensive. We decided that a single bottle of red wine would be the thing to accompany our chosen menu – tuna, lobster, chicken to follow Danny Humm’s sparse descriptions (the killer course was the lobster, which was described as a lasagne but turned out to be more of an open ravioli) – but I was struggling a bit with the relatively recent vintages of Burgundy and Bordeaux when I came across a vertical selection of Mas de Daumas Gassac, with vintages back to 1982. Having enjoyed the relatively recent vintages of 2008 and 2006 at restaurants in London and Bruges this summer, I thought a really older vintage would be very interesting.

Mas de Daumas Gassac, of course, was established by Aimé Guibert in the Languedoc, where, advised by the famous enologist Emile Peynaud, he found suitably protected climate and terroir at Aniane to plant Cabernet Sauvignon. As Cabernet Sauvignon is banned in the local AOCs, the wine is bottled under the lowly designation of Vin de Pays d’Herault, and Aimé marched to the beat of his own drum, blending the dominant Cabernet  (on average around 80% of the wine) with an unusual mix of ten other varieties, including both Bordeaux varieties (Merlot, Malbec), Languedoc varieties (Syrah, Grenache), and others (Pinot Noir). The vineyards are as distinctive as the wine. Last time I visited, Samuel Guibert took us on a bumpy ride in a Land Rover through a series of vineyards, each located in its own terroir, surrounded by the garrigue (local scrub and forest). There’s a great emphasis here on the natural environment, which was part of the background to l’Affaire Mondavi, when Aimé led the fight against the establishment of a large scale winery in the vicinity.

Anyway, I haven’t had  any vintage preceding the 1990s recently, so I asked the sommelier at Eleven Madison for advice about the older vintages. She thought the 1982 might be drying out just a little, but recommended the 1983 as still lively with a slightly perfumed quality. This turned out to be fair advice and a good description. The wine was a deep color with an intriguing nose showing more the perfume than the herbal quality of the garrigue surrounding the vineyards, and it showed little signs of tiring. The structure of Cabernet Sauvignon is in the background, but the general impression is quite a bit softer than Bordeaux. I was surprised by the lack of much tertiary development on this bottle, and there were certainly none of the slightly herbaceous overtones you might expect to have developed in a Bordeaux, but the wine has matured to a beautiful balance with the fruits showing nicely complex layers of flavor. It turned out to be a perfect accompaniment to the menu.

The interest of this bottle led me to wonder about aging potential in general and how the effect of vintage manifest themselves in the Languedoc compared with the extremes of Bordeaux. I’m planning to look for bottles for a vertical tasting, back to the first vintage of 1978 if possible. Incidentally, since the vineyards were first planted in 1974, the 1983 vintage is all the more impressive in coming from relatively young vines. In the meantime, I may just have to go back to Eleven Madison Park and try some of their other old vintages while they last on the list.

Recent Tastings of Mas de Daumas Gassac Rouge

2008   This is an elegant wine with Cabernet Sauvignon represented in a lighter style. Fresh on the nose and palate with a slight spiciness and some aromatic complexity. The Cabernet is identified by notes of cedar, with  lively fruits on the palate showing a faint savory touch of the garrigue. For the south this is a restrained style. Good variety of flavors across the palate are supported by an unobtrusive structure with tannins well in the background.  88 Drink now-2018.

2006  Nose shows fresh red fruits and a touch of nuts with intimations of complexity. Elegant fruits on the palate, following the red spectrum of the nose. There’s a touch of savory influence from the garrigue. Opening up in the glass, the wine shows its delicacy, yet with the fine structure and tannic support of Cabernet. It brings back memories of some of the more delicate older vintages of Bordeaux. 90 Drink now-2017.

1983   Still a fairly dark color. An intriguing slightly floral note on the nose, almost a whiff of violets à la Margaux, conveying a vague sense of garrigue but one that is more floral than herbal. The ripeness of the fruits is evident on the palate, giving a kick of sweetness to the finish. Black fruits on the palate show more as blackberries than blackcurrants, but with a fleshiness on the mid palate, presumably from the Merlot and Syrah. Still youthfully vibrant, and I’m struck by the warm tones of the palate with chocolaty hints on the finish. Age has brought a definite softness rather than the savory development that’s common in Bordeaux. 92 Drink now-2016.