2020 In Review: To Next Year

We’re nearing the end of 2020 and that means Good Vitis’ annual year-in-review piece. Every year I sit down to write one of these and I think, ‘how self-indulgent can you be?’ This hesitation has been particularly acute in 2020 because of COVID, the summer of social unrest, and the election that won’t end. My wife and I got a second dog this year, moved from DC to Chicago during COVID so my wife could start a new job, and some of my work touches on the social issues most hotly debated this year, as well as the election itself, so we’ve been in the thick of things. Thankfully we haven’t lost anyone to the pandemic or suffered in any direct way, even as we take our personal responsibility to public health seriously and diligently. Life remains good to us, knock on wood, and we feel deeply for those who haven’t fared as well. So…wine highlights? I’ll tell you why the answer is yes.

During these dark days, wine has been an important part of life because it has contributed some normalcy, and offered opportunities to connect with people and experience other parts of the world while quarantining. I spent considerable time on Zoom and the phone talking to winemakers across the country, helping me stay connected to the outside world as I meet new people who share my passion. Exploring new wineries through samples has been a rare source of adventure. Opening wine from our cellar that has been aging for five or ten or twenty years has given us the opportunity to have something special to look forward to, marvel over, and reminisce about how it was acquired and what was happening that year. And, even though we haven’t seen most of our wine-drinking friends since pre-COVID days, it hasn’t stopped us from making future plans to share our favorite wines together, which gives us hope for the future. None of this is unique to COVID, but all of it has taken on added significance because of it. We all need something to keep us attached to good memories and help us generate new ones, and wine has been there for me this year in that department.

That said, 2020 was not a particularly noteworthy year in wine for us because of COVID. Sure, we drank great wine, but our inability to travel and share bottles with special people meant few exceptional wine experiences. This matters because while wine hits our taste, smell, and sight senses, it’s a story in a bottle that connects us to – and with – place, people, and history. A complete experience incorporates some of those elements in addition to the cork pop and pour that so many of us do frequently at home. Unfortunately, this became collateral damage to COVID.

Nevertheless, on balance wine was an important contribution to the good things that occurred this year. As has become the tradition, every year-in-review piece is done a bit differently from previous years. 2019 was the most revelatory moments, 2018 and 2017 the most memorable wine, and 2016 the best reds, whites, and values. 2020’s theme: The Year Of. I put a lot of thought into whether to include the incredible fires of 2020 that affected wine country, but decided to punt on that until the full impact on the vintage is known.

2020: The Year of Pinot Noir

Pinot noir has a reputation as a wine that can take people a fair amount of time to warm up to. It’s a hard variety to put your finger on: its versatility can be made into many styles and its ability to reflect terroir can produce a multitude of profiles. With infinite style and profile combinations, there are bound to be pinots that pinot lovers dislike, and pinots that pinot haters can tolerate, if not enjoy. It’s also a variety that can be quite transformational with extended aging, meaning the same wine can evolve into multiple versions of itself. And it’s prolific, made nearly everywhere in the world.

With all its permutations, it’s easy to have a few bottles you don’t enjoy and decide that’s enough pinot for you. Plus, if you’re not ready for the more traditional pinot and that’s what you get, it can be a huge turnoff. I’ve lost count of the number of stories I hear that go something like ‘a friend poured me a glass of (insert wine here) and all I could taste was dirt and mushrooms and it was the last pinot I’ll have because it was gross.’

It certainly took me a few years to warm up to pinot (I took a flyer on a Volnay early in my wine days, which I’d probably love now, that didn’t go over well then). Because of the blog, the number and quality of pinot I tasted jumped significantly in 2019, and again in 2020 because of the number of Good Vitis articles that centered on pinot. This year’s pinot posts included a profile on California’s Anderson Valley (a pinot haven); research for a forthcoming profile on California’s Santa Lucia Highlands (another pinot mecca); and profiles of pinot specialists Clarice, Beau Marchais, Siduri, Peake Ranch, Merry Edwards, and a forthcoming profile of The Hilt. Those articles alone “required” tasting over 5 dozen pinots. We put in the hard work so you don’t have to; you’re welcome. And this doesn’t even include the exceptional pinot we drank from our private stash, including Oregon favorites Belle Pente, Cameron, Domaine Serene, Penner-Ash, and Zena Crown, plus some old Burgundy.

Beau Marchais barrel samples

One of the most surprising moments of 2020 involved pinot as well. Normally an expensive wine, the best value I came across in 2020 was actually a pinot noir. Made by Lucky Rock, this killer wine costs just $22 and is a purposeful thorn in the side of upper hoity toity wine society that turns both butt cheeks at such plonk.  

This year’s exploration further confirmed pinot noir’s bona fides as one of wine’s noble varieties for me. Pinot can give one an experience that doesn’t entirely make sense, which makes it quite hard to describe in a medium like this. Pinot flourishes as an a posteriori wine, giving us a lot to experience and learn from. But it’s real value is the a priori experience it can provide, going beyond what we can identify by giving us aromas, flavors, structures, and textures that are without comparison and require some theoretical deduction to wrap our heads around.

This seemingly illogical description is quite reflective of the experience one can have with pinot, able to pinpoint flavors, aromas, textures, and structures while feeling incomplete in one’s ability to describe the experience at hand. The more pinot I experience, the less I know about the variety.

2020: The Year of Zoom

You might have notice that Zoom is a thing. Many of us have spent countless hours on video conference as we work, socialize, or attend school and events from home. The same is true of the wine industry. With the limitation/inability of doing in-person tastings, wineries and public relations firms embraced Zoom tastings. I certainly did my fair share of them with wine glass in hand. I don’t have a ton of poignancy to add on this front other than two interesting anecdotes to share as data points.

Lot of time spent in front of this thing

First, when I profiled brick and mortar-less Clarice Wine Company and its inaugural release (2017 vintage) in 2019, I outlined the unusual business model that owner and winemaker Adam Lee designed to offer multiple touchpoints for customers. This included an online forum for Clarice members to connect with each other, which in its first year turned out to be less used that Adam expected. However, with COVID the forum lit up, and Adam combined that serge of community with another element of his unusual business plan, offering discounts to his members on other wineries owned by friends of his, to schedule an incredible amount of Zoom tastings with other winemakers to discuss their wines and experience. This effort helped his followers and customers expand their palates and knowledge while driving additional business to these partner wineries.

Second, in a very recent discussion with Wine Enthusiast’s Winemaker of the Year Greg Brewer, Greg told me that while he badly misses the in-person interactions with customers and clients, the ability to pop in on an event via Zoom for five or ten minutes and provide some additional value for the participants is something he’s come to really appreciate, and imagines will continue to be something he does even when he’s Zoomed in on in-person events.

Zoom has been a Godsend for many people for many reasons, including the wine industry. And, it may be the gift that keeps on giving even when COVID is fully in our rearview mirror.

2020: The Year of Champagne

It became clear to my wife and I this year that when there’s something to celebrate, it should be celebrated. We shouldn’t be too picky about it. And when we think celebration, we think Champagne. It’s unfair to limit the use of Champagne to celebrations, although that’s the stereotype the industry has perpetuated in the name of sales and brand ID. It’s also a bit stupid because Champagne is one of the best food-pairing wines out there, full stop. But that’s another discussion.

At some point in 2020 we decided we wanted bubbles to be more of a fixture in our routine, and so I set out to assemble a dozen or so bottles for us to try. I went to social media, getting great recommendations from a number of people. Although we experimented with a number of non-Champagne bubbles, we always came back to three wines that have become our core sparkling wines, all of them from the region of Reims:

NV Taittinger Brut Prestige Rosé: We tried a number of rosé’s, including Billecart-Salmon, considered by many to be the industry standard basic quality rosé, and didn’t find anything we liked nearly as much as Taittinger’s Brut Prestige Rosé. A combination of pinot noir and pinot meunier, it strikes a great balance between lean acidic cut and creamy body; has the kind of lush, fine mousse we love; and drinks equally well alone as it does with food. We rarely drink more than two or three bottles of any vintage of any wine because we prize variety, but we blew through more than a case of this in 2020.

NV Egly-Ouriet Premeir Cru Vignes de Vrigny: This cat’s-out-of-the-bag grower Champagne house was a no-brainer to try, and we fell hard for this rare Premier Cru-level 100% pinot meunier Champagne. It’s 38 months on lees is, according to the winemaker, a modern regional record. The result is a savory, substantive, and succulent Champagne with great minerality and depth that drinks well now, though I’m trying to exercise patience and keep a few in the cellar to open in five or seven years because it has that kind of promise for evolution.

NV Bérêche et Fils Brut Réserve: This one came via an Instagram recommendation, and was my favorite new discovery. It’s a full-bodied, dense, cider-y, creamy, yeasty, and brioche-y Champagne that stands out very distinctively – and elegantly – from the far more common profile of what seems to be one of today’s dominant wine trends of strip-your-enamel acid. This is my favorite Champagne to drink on its own for that reason in particular.

2020: The Year of Residual Sugar

We are dedicated lovers of old sweet chenin blanc from Loire Valley, especially Domaine Huet Moelleux (the sweetest Vouvray designation). We fell in love with riesling after spending time in Mosel in 2019 while on our honeymoon, which also served as our introduction to Kabinett. This year, our official love affair with Kabinett and Spätlese rieslings began.

Kabinett and Spätlese are German designations for the amount of sugar content in the grape when it is harvested (note: neither distinction reflects how much residual sugar is left in the wine post-fermentation, meaning there are such things as dry Kabinett and Spätlese wines, which are given the additional distinction of “trocken,” “Grosses Gewächs,” or “Erstes Gewächs”).

The foundations for this love affair were laid by a 2007 Willi Schaefer Graacher Himmelreich Kabinett, a 2003 Selbach-Oster Zelting Schlossberg Auslese, and a magnum of Peter Lauer Barrel X riesling that paired well as a BYO bottle with a meal at a Laotian restaurant known for exceptionally authentic and authentically spicy food. Now, about a third of what we’re buying for ourselves are residual sugar wines, especially riesling and chenin blanc. A 1996 Schaefer Kabinett really sealed the deal.

One aspect of the beauty of varieties like riesling and chenin is that, whether dry or sweet, when aged for ten-plus years they take on qualities that make them exceptionally diverse in the food pairing department, an improvement, if possible, upon their distinction as great food wines even when young. Really great, old riesling or chenin goes equally and extraordinarily well with steak au poivre as it does Thai, and are also exceptional to drink on their own. There are no other varieties, I’d argue, that you can say that about. And that’s especially frustrating because the modern trend is dry riesling, even in the most famed areas for residual sugar. This means supply of residual sugar bottlings, both old and new, is shrinking.

The other frustrating thing with these wines is that, at least for us, they are so much better when they reach ten or twenty (or sometimes more) years of age and are worth the wait. This means we have to buy them at auction to support our addiction since we didn’t order cases of them when we were in high school. Our approach is to go mostly to auction, while slowly building a stock of new(ish) releases that we’ll drink when we’re (much) older.

2020: The Year of “Next year”

We were supposed to go to Japan and Belgium in 2020. We were supposed visit family, and celebrate birthdays with friends and good wine. We were supposed to volunteer. We were supposed to…supposed to…supposed to… “Next year” has become a common idea expressed towards the end of many conversations. The yearning for a better and more meaningful next year is a common theme for Jews like myself, which made it a bit easier to swallow each time I said it, though no less consequential.

At the end of the Passover Seder and the Yom Kippur Ne’ila service (two of the most important events in the Jewish year), diaspora Jews sing “L’Shana Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim,” which translates to “Next year in Jerusalem.” An inherent, in-our-DNA connection to Jerusalem, the heart and soul of Israel, is a core part of many Jew’s identities, mine included.

Jerusalem means “the city of peace” and uniquely occupies the intersection of body, soul, heaven, earth, ideal, and reality. Although also biblical, the Jewish connection to Jerusalem and the Land of Israel has been around for a lot longer than the Jewish religion. It comes from a time of Jewish nationhood, which preceded the Jewish religion by many generations. This is why there are numerous secular Jews for whom Jerusalem and Israel hold a special place in their hearts and souls, and why attacks on the Jewish connection to Israel, and Jewish self-determination in the Land of Israel, are attacks on Jewish identity.

A common description of Jerusalem’s Jewish significance is that you can be miles away from it even while living there, yet be on the other side of the world and be only a step away. When Jews left Egypt for the Land of Israel, they were escaping slavery and seeking the freedom of the Promised Land out of a yearning for the ancestral place where they could be free. In Egypt their bodies were owned and controlled by others, imprisoning their souls rather than being a vehicle for their expression. In Israel, and especially Jerusalem, their souls were free to pursue service to humanity, which is a core tenant of Jewish life. This sentiment remains a core value that Jews cherish today. Whether one actually lives there or not, Jerusalem is, in place and spirit, the best opportunity for Jews to live our best lives (in the parlance of our times).

In 2020, the secular “next year” took on a weightier significance then it had previously, at least in its common use. So much of what many of us have given up this year are things we do with and for other people – the things we do in service to humanity.

I’ve been working from home since 2017, so I’d been training for COVID for a few years on the work front. However, that didn’t cover things like having to keep physical distance from family, friends, friends’ COVID babies and dogs, seriously sick friends, and close colleagues. Even Next Year in Jerusalem, always a communal exclamation, became something we said in the solitude of our own homes while watching services on our television. It’s been a hard year to maintain relationships, though the shared experience of COVID at least provides for a universally understood reason (and excuse). It’s been a year where selfishness can be selflessness if done right and for the right reasons, but also a year where selfishness can be masked as selflessness or unmasked for what it is. It’s been an entirely mixed bag.

I’m really hoping that “next year” is prophetic and what we’ve had to postpone in 2020 can happen in 2021. Like you, I have a long list of people and places I want to visit, and things I want to do. I’m eager for a return to normalcy, though I anticipate it will be a new normal, with tweaks to the old normal based on what we’ve learned this year. As the year winds down, we’ll be raising our wine glasses to everyone in our family and yours, and channeling our strong desire and hope for a better 2021 for all, including a renewed focus on how we can serve each other. To next year.

The Mystique of Anderson Valley (Part 1)

Welcome to Part 1 of our profile of California’s Anderson Valley Appellation. This piece covers some of the history, geography, weather, and other factors that set the quality and uniqueness of the region’s wines apart.

Under the Radar

At some point in 2019, I came to realize that some of my favorite American pinot noirs and chardonnays were coming from Anderson Valley, California, almost irrespective of producer, because I was drawn the region’s unique stylistic signature. Anderson Valley wine has a certain refinement, bordering on elegance, that when combined with its flavor profile is unmistakably Anderson Valley. The next closest in style are Willamette Valley and, to a lesser extent, Santa Lucia Highlands.

The pinots are black-fruited with good doses of baking spice and scorched earth minerality, while the best chardonnays can have unusually incredible depth (more so, I would say, than most of the pinots), and often feature penetrating stone minerality, baking spice, and nuttiness to go with its fruit. Both tend to carry high levels of acid and relatively low levels of alcohol and tannin, making them great candidates for up to a decade of cellaring.

Once this realization occurred, I decided to reach out to producers of the region to see if they would be willing to submit samples and their winemakers’ time to help me put this piece together. Thankfully, a good number agreed, and here we are. Part 2 will cover the wines themselves along with the future prospects of Anderson Valley.

Writing a piece about a wine region that you’ve not visited is challenging, and all the more so when the region in question is a bit of an enigma. Anderson Valley is an off-the-beaten path pocket in the world that hasn’t seen the kind of commercialization that America’s other wine regions have despite the incredibly high quality wine it produces. While Anderson Valley’s wineries and vineyards are as modern as any other, there remains paltry wine tourism infrastructure, and therefore limited fan fair outside dedicated winos. Anderson Valley lives a weird dichotomy in which the wine is widely recognized as among America’s best, yet the region is almost always an afterthought in the discussion of which American regions produce the best wine.

The Wild West

The remoteness of the Valley is often the first explanation for the region’s unremarked status, which usually begins with a description of Highway 128, the road one would drive if heading there from the Napa/Sonoma area. Here are comments from the winemakers interviewed for this piece about Anderson Valley’s location.

Highway 128

“It’s the land that time forgot” Tony Rynders, who consults on Jackson Family Wine’s Maggy Hawk project, explained. “The way [Anderson Valley] is physically set up, the logistics of getting there, you have to endure forty minutes of switchbacks that disincentivizes people from going there.”

The final stretch into Anderson Valley coming from the south includes “this incredibly windy and treacherous road,” Katey Larwood of Goldeneye told me, referring to Highway 128.

“The last 45 minutes is a mountain logging road, essentially,” FEL Wines winemaker Ryan Hodgins said.

To get there, “you have to go fifty miles past Healdsburg on really windy roads that scare people, then you get to a very small town with not much around it commercially,” Julien Howsepian of Kosta Browne said. “But it’s absolutely gorgeous, rural California. Kind of like turning back the clock a bit.”

Siduri Wines’ Matt Revelette pointed out that “when you’re on the 128 up to AV, it’s wine growing for the sake of wine growing…[you’re] not going to stay at the [non-existent] Four Seasons, not going to have a bachelorette party up there… Not many people end up there by accident.”

According to Ashley Holland of Read Holland Wines, Highway 128  “is pretty treacherous. Visitors aren’t increasing because of it. It means Anderson Valley has an untouched feel to it… It has an X factor.”

These descriptions immediately piqued my interest, helping to explain why Anderson Valley is what it is, why more people aren’t visiting, and why the traditional kind of tourism industry that sets up shop in a wine region hasn’t materialized. This has left the region to the people who inhabit it, preserving what seems to be an incredibly unusual and quirky population.

“The people are as much part of the region as anything,” Katey told me. “It’s an area built around community populated by an odd medley of people that you wouldn’t think would live harmoniously, but do. It’s fascinating.” Today’s Anderson Valley community received an injection of hippies who left the Bay Area in the 1970s and ventured north, forming an agrarian society in which the locals lived off their land in a somewhat collective manner. “These are hippies that own guns because there are wildlife and you have to protect your land,” Katey explained.

“Candidly,” Tony confessed, “it’s dope growing country, and that helped make it an early adapter of wine. The volumes were small, it didn’t really have a voice of its own, nor were people listening. But fast forward to today, [the wine industry is] tapping into a coming-of-age type of energy.”

“I really love Anderson Valley,” Matt told me, “and I really appreciate it for being what it is. It has a kind of anti-developmental attitude, but in a charming way. I wrote my senior thesis on why people should live in eco villages, and Anderson Valley reminds me of that thinking: remote, not congested.”

A story from The June 19th, 1990 New York Times

When the hippies showed up, they joined the historic logging community that founded the modern area, which is northern Redwoods country. Katey describes these loggers as “quasi-environmentalists that wear tie die,” which perhaps explains how hippies and loggers could live, at least somewhat, harmoniously. Additionally, “there’s the apple and sheep communities, and then along with the wineries, a wonderful Latino migrant population. The people make the region special.”

The feel of Anderson Valley “is very rustic, very old time,” Katey said. “You come in first through Boonville [if you’re coming from the south]. It’s five stores, no stop signs, and you drive right through it. It opens up into a wonderful valley where you see a long floor and wonderful hills and ridge tops. My first time there was to explore the area, we camped and tasted and were really in the soil and breathing the air.” It was a magical experience for her, and “immediately knew I wanted to come back.” Howsepian called it “tucked away, quiet, super peaceful and tranquil,” the kind of feeling that you can “only find in these remote places.”

For Ashley, whose path first went through New Zealand and other parts of California, and included major producers like Gallo and small ones like Three Sticks, Anderson Valley “is special, it’s untouched; there’s a lot of Californian history there.” This shows through in the wine, she said, which “shows the spirituality” of the region.

From talking to these winemakers, I got the sense that Anderson Valley today might be what we consider a “throw back” to the 1970s Napa as it appears in stories like Bottle Shock, meaning a wine scene full of risk-acceptant serious people who are figuring out how to make the best wine the region can produce, while not worrying about how they might appear to the observers who aren’t visiting. You can hear in the voice of the winemakers as they describe what they’re doing that they feel like they’re in the early days of establishing a truly world class wine region, even as their wines are receiving world-class reception among wine critics.

The Rustic Borderland

The region focuses on chardonnay and pinot noir, just like America’s better known pinot and chardonnay regions, Sonoma and Willamette Valley, though there are a few other varieties, namely pinot gris and riesling. And just as those better known regions are distinctly and uniquely their own, so too is Anderson Valley.

The Valley is historically a cool climate region, especially within the context of California, but to leave the analysis at that is to skip over the geography, which has an incredible impact on the singular profile of Anderson Valley wine. FEL’s Ryan Hodgins sees Anderson Valley as “the tipping point between California and Oregon,” not just because it’s one of California’s most northern wine regions, but because it sits between the better known Sonoma and Willamette styles.

Anderson Valley is only “15 miles long, running south east to north west, so that the north side that faces the south west is dry brown grass hills that look like they belong in Santa Barbara or San Diego County.” Meanwhile, “the south side of the Valley is protected from the afternoon sun and is old growth Redwood and Douglas Fir country, the most northern the Redwoods really grow. I look at these 250 foot-tall trees from our vineyards.”

Just north of the Valley, the forest begins to harken the famously wet Northwest forest. “It’s the tipping point between the warmth and dryness of California and the coolness and moisture of the Northwest,” Ryan added, which means that in the wine “you get some of the elegance, prettiness, and delicacy of the great Willamette Valley wines to go along with some of that California ripeness, though [the ripeness] isn’t turned up to the ten or eleven that the more southern applications can give you.”

Goldeneye’s Larwood noted that the region “is commonly referred to as the Oregon of California from a pinot perspective.” The natural result of this geography is a wine profile that Ryan aptly describes as “light on its feet, with really fresh acid. The fruit tends to be darker – a signature for AV is black cherry, compared to, say, Russian River Valley signature red Bing cherry.”

This geography has a lot to do with why Anderson Valley wine stands out uniquely from other American pinot and chardonnay. In addition to its northern location, Anderson Valley opens up directly to the Pacific, which means it gets the brunt of the storms in the winter that can often lead to a growing season that starts later in the year than its southern compatriots. “Our phenological markers like bud break, bloom date, verasion date, etc. line up more with the Willamette Valley than with Sonoma or Napa,” FEL’s Ryan told me, referring to the pre-2014-2018 draught vintages.

Another aspect of Anderson Valley’s outlier status among California’s other regions is what Larwood described as the Valley’s “really extreme diurnal shifts” that come “mainly during the summer growing season.” She noted, for example, that “on May 5th [of 2020], I came to work at 6:30 in the morning and it was 32 degrees and we had our fans and sprinklers on to protect the grapes from the fog. By 1:00 pm, it was 80 degrees, and when I left at 6:00pm it was windy, foggy and 55 degrees.” While the number of “growing degree days are pretty average compared to the Russian River Valley [for reference], the highs are really high and the lows are really low, and that makes it the perfect pinot place because we are able to ripen and get fruit complexity without cooking any of the grapes; they’re able to hangout, relax and ripen.”

Copain winemaker’s Ryan Zepaltas has a lot of experience with Anderson Valley and Sonoma, which together comprise about 70% of the wines he makes. As a point of distinction between the two, he highlighted the impact of Anderson Valley’s frequent fog. “We work with a lot of Sonoma fruit that comes from nearer the ocean, but even still, those vineyards are just above the fog lines. In Anderson, however, a good amount of pinot sits below the fog line and gets shorter windows of sun exposure. Whereas our Sonoma fruit is concentrated and softer, Anderson is a little more about tannin management and working with fruit that never really gets fully phenologically ripe. It can be ornery.”

“Everything, all weather and temperatures, are determined by proximity to the ocean [in Anderson Valley],” Ryan Hodgins noted. “Boonville fuit gives you a little more California, tends to be more black cherry and fruit forward. As you get to what the locals call ‘the deep end,’ close to the ocean, you get more baking spice, cigar box. The mid-point of the Valley has a bit of both.”

The Balance Challenge

Maggy Hawk’s Tony Rynders called Anderson Valley’s tannin profile “the most striking thing [about the wines of the region],” adding that they “need mitigating” because he “doesn’t want gritty tannins dominating the profile, which can be an inherent property of the appellation.” To achieve the desired tannin profile at Maggy Hawk, the project where he consults, they “have moved away from punch downs” to “lower the extraction.” Instead, they do “gentle pump overs and whole cluster fermentation to reduce crushed skins,” which prevents more tannin from leaching into the juice.

The house Copain style is a restrained, almost elegant structure, with doses of dark fruit and earthiness. To achieve that in Anderson Valley where grapes can have a hard time fully ripening, Zepaltas has to balance the need to “push ripeness” in the grapes on the vine, meaning allowing the fruit to hang long enough to build sugar “to get good concentration,” with ensuring that the fruit doesn’t ripen to the point that it gets too sugary. Compared to other parts of California, Anderson Valley’s wines are “more tannic, less concentrated, and more transparent.”

This balance is a challenge that all Anderson Valley winemakers face from time to time. If they let the fruit hang too long, it loses its Anderson Valley uniqueness. But, if they harvest too early, they end up with high levels of pyrazines and low limits on alcohol and tannin. Under ripe fruit tends to produce less fruit and more green flavors like bell pepper. “If it’s too green [then] it’s gross, but if it’s just on the edge [of ripeness] then it’s snappy and fresh,” Zepaltas said.

The ripeness that he’s looking for is a certain level of “fruit maturity that translates into flavor development.” He likes to pick the fruit “al dente, which is right when the clusters start to soften but still have some snap to them.” The juice of the fruit “will taste like pink lemonade right before this moment hits, and then it turns a corner and picks up fruit flavor and concentration before it starts losing acidity.” That’s the exact time he aims to pick.

Getting to that point is “really about monitoring weather.” While cool weather usually doesn’t stunt maturation, “[if the fruit is at a good spot when cool weather hits] you could pick it and it won’t matter.” However, if “there’s a heat spike, a one or two day difference is huge.” Zepaltas does “a lot of tasting and weather monitoring, which means spending a lot of time in the vineyards. There are differences block by block in terms of ripeness based on the aspect, rootstock, clone, etc.”

“You always have to look at the weather stations to see what the temperature is [of your vineyard’s little micro climate],” Zepaltas explained. “The weather is not only different depending on where you are, but changes a lot throughout the day and throughout the year.” Generally speaking, it’s coolest near Navarro at the most Northwestern part of the valley and warmest near Boonville in the Southwest.

Skycrest Vineyard

Copain is a good example of how this climatic variance impacts viniculture because it produces wines from vineyards spread across the Valley. “I harvest every or every other day [up and down the Valley]; there are lots of things to schedule,” Zepaltas said, explaining that “at Maggy Hawk [Vineyard], say we have eight different blocks, I’m probably picking that eight different times. Skycrest has five blocks, those are five different pick times. Scheduling so that we pick each block at optimum rightness is a huge challenge” that he doesn’t face to nearly the same extent in Sonoma.

Another important element to grape growing in Anderson Valley is the intense sun, which similarly differs from vineyard to vineyard. “We have to make sure that the fruit is shaded from the sun so it doesn’t get burnt from the really intense four to five hours of sunlight each day.” At the same time, though, “fog and wind are big deals here, so we have to make sure that the shading we put on the grapes [by leaving leaves on the vine to cover them] does not trap the moisture around the grape [which causes mildew and mold]. About half the Valley is frost protected by water, the other half by fans.”

Water can be challenging as a factor because it isn’t always plentiful. The climate is commonly referred to as a “maritime desert” in which an average growing season only sees about 40 inches of rain. “With that influence,” Larwood explained, “we have disease pressure and extreme sun exposure.”

Distinctively Anderson Valley

All of these climatic and geographic realities, complications, and challenges add up to an appellation that does not suffer fools. Not a single one of these winemakers got their start in Anderson Valley, and though each’s path to the Valley is different, they are all some variation on a theme of ‘once I got to Anderson Valley, I knew I had to make wine there.’

Another point of distinction for Anderson Valley is that a lot of wine from there is not made by wineries dedicated to Anderson Valley, let alone located there. With notable exceptions like legendary French sparkling wine company Roederer (who began producing in 1988) and Domaine Anderson (which planted roots in 1981), and boutique producers like Read Holland, most Anderson Valley wines are made by big labels that have decided to include some Anderson Valley in their lineup.

Along with Roederer, Jackson Family Wines (JFW) has made enormous investments in the Valley. A number of their projects source from JFW-owned vineyards, leading to cross-pollination across the portfolio. For example, JFW owns Maggy Hawk Vineyard, which is the source of a lineup of JFW-owned Maggy Hawk-labeled wines as well as a Maggy Hawk Vineyard-designate for JWF-owned Copain. JFW-owned Siduri produces an Anderson Valley appellation blend pinot sourced from several JFW-owned vineyards. And the list goes on.

Entire articles could be written on Roederer’s and JFW’s histories in the Valley, but suffice it to say that these major names making major investments have given the region a huge boost in credibility and visibility. “The reputation of AV is growing with JFW’s thoughtful effort,” Ashley Holland (of the very small and boutique-y Read Holland) told me. That effort includes hosting tasting panels and other industry events to which non-JFW producers are invited. FEL’s Ryan Hodgins has “done some panels with them; they’re commitment to quality as far as the bigger wineries out there, and they continue to invest in the Valley.”

FEL is itself a label under Cliff Leade, which owns a number of wineries. Goldeneye is owned by Duckhorn, and so own. Wineries like Siduri, Kosta Browne, Litterai, Failla, William Selyem, and others have made the decision to add Anderson Valley-designate to their line up. “This investment [by larger and reputable wineries] in the Valley is good, it’s driving the reputation in a sustainable way,” Hodgins said. “In the last ten years, there has been a substantial improvement. Attention from great producers in other pinot regions that source from Anderson Valley “has contributed to the growth in the Valley’s reputation.”

“Even down in Santa Barbara,” Goldeneye’s Katey noted, “there are wineries sourcing from Anderson Valley. You have these wineries [from outside Anderson Valley] with the marketing capabilities, clientele and wine clubs that know their wines, and then they see an Anderson Valley wine and it opens their eyes to the fruit profile and the wines that can be grown here. People learn about Anderson Valley through brands that are outside the Valley.”

Kosta Browne’s Cerise Vineyard

This is certainly the Kosta Browne model, from which the Cerise Vineyard pinot noir and chardonnay are the only Anderson Valley wines in their sizeable lineup. They are also the newest, and most expensive. Even still, “we don’t have a problem selling it,” Howsepian told me. “Only our most senior club members [and select retailers] get it. These are the members who, for the most part, have already been with us for five to eight years. We’ve had success selling it and telling the story.”

Further, Katey noted that “most [wineries in Anderson Valley] are still today mom and pop-run businesses, which makes it special because people can still do that there whereas down in Napa, Sonoma, it’s pretty difficult to do that now [because the cost to produce is too high].” The absence of substantial tourism and remoteness has, thus far, allowed small producers to stay in the game.

There is no wine region I know of that shares many similarities with the story of Anderson Valley. In the course of writing this piece, I am often reminded of Tony’s line about the Valley being “the land that time forgot.” It’s obvious that a lot is happening on the wine front, yet the wine world remains largely ignorant about it. Its remoteness isolates us, allowing us to enjoy its wines while never actually connecting with the place.

Or, do we connect to the place through the wines? Anderson Valley wines are distinctly Anderson Valley because the terroir is incredibly strong, and there are no mass produced wines to obscure it. This is a testament to those involved in the Valley’s wine scene, suggesting that the place is really that special that it must be showcased rather than manipulated. In Part 2, we’ll go in-depth into the wines themselves, and discuss what kind of future Anderson Valley may have.

The 2018 Good Vitis Tastemakers

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The author and Martin Evans

I’m blessed by this blog in a number of ways, most notably in that it provides me opportunities to meet friendly, fascinating, talented and remarkably knowledgeable people with whom I share a passion. In wine, like nearly all things in life, people matter most. Human beings crave connections to other human beings, and meeting and bonding with winemakers, wine writers and others is often more exciting than any one bottle of wine for me. The winemakers who made this list fall in that category.

For this reason, the annual Good Vitis Tastemakers post has to be one of my favorite posts to compile and write. I get to share this benefit with my readers by bring the words of winemakers directly to them.

The Good Vitis Tastemakers of 2018 include four individuals who helped further my knowledge and appreciation of wine: Matthieu Finot of King Family Vineyards and Domaine Finot and Ben Jordan of Early Mountain Vineyards, both of Virginia; Evan Martin of Martin Woods Winery in Oregon; and Adam Lee of Siduri and Clarice Wine Project in California. I sent each of them the same questionnaire, which bears some, but not all, resemblance to the questions our 2017 Tastemakers answered, and I’ve printed them verbatim below (with minor editing for clarity). For each person I’ve also given a brief introduction and explanation for why they made the list.

Matthieu Finot – King Family Vineyards and Domaine Finot

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Matthieu Finot (second from left)

When I agreed to cover Maryland and Virginia for The Cork Report, I didn’t know Matthieu. He came by way of several peoples’ recommendation as one of the first winemakers in Virginia I should meet. Matthieu makes the wine at one of the state’s very best and most respected wineries and consults for several others, which alone could be enough to make a list like this. However, his institutional knowledge of Virginia’s wine scene, its terroir, its history and all of its particularities, combined, makes him one of the most effective winemakers in Virginia because he can represent so many facets of it. The proof is in the bottle, three of which I mention in the Good Vitis Most Memorable Wines of 2018.

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King Family Vineyards (estate vineyards)

Further, the breadth of his experience outside of Virginia boosts the credibility of his presence in any discussion. Although it’s almost comical, I decided to include the full list of wineries he has worked at prior to King Family below (his resume covers the Rhone Valley, Bordeaux, Jura, Bandol, Burgundy, South Africa and Italy) because Virginia is a tough place to make good wine and that kind of diversity of experience equips him well to handle it. Matthieu has a response to every question – at least every question I’ve asked him – that is informative, if not instructive. While the regions he has previously worked in produce wines among those most respected in the world, I would argue that making exceptional Virginia wine is not something many winemakers from those regions could do.

1. Winery and role: King Family Vineyards, winemaker.

2. Number of years in the wine business: 24.

3. Previous wineries/roles: I should send you my resume!

Proprietor

Domaine Finot                 Bernin/Larnage(France)                                                                           -ISERE / CROZES-HERMITAGE-            

Winemaker

King Family Vineyards Vineyards                                Crozet (USA)                                     -VIRGINIA-            

Consultant

Multiple Clients                                                     Charlottesville (USA)

Instructor

Piedmont Virginia Community College                       Charlottesville (USA)

Winemaker & Vineyard Manager

Potomac Point Winery                                                 Stafford (USA)                                               -VIRGINIA-

Winemaker & Vineyard Manager

Afton Mountain Vineyards                                           Afton (USA)                                                   -VIRGINIA-

Winemaker

Hildenbrand Estate                                                      Wellington (South Africa)

Winemaker

Azienda Agricola Andréa Rizzo                                    Nimis (Italy)                                                -RAMANDOLO-

Assistant Winemaker

Fruitière de Pupillin                                                     Pupillin (France)                                           –JURA-

Winemaker and Salesman

Cave de Tain                                                                Tain l’Hermitage (France)                             COTES DU RHONE-

Cellar Assistant &  Vinegrower

Domaine Tempier                                                        Plan du Castellet (France)                            BANDOL-

Assistant Winemaker

Domaine Jean-Jacques Confuron                                Nuits St Georges (France)                           -BOURGOGNE-

Salesman

Cave de Tain                                                                Tain l’Hermitage (France)                             -COTES DU RHONE-

Assistant Winemaker

Domaine Jean-Jacques Confuron                                Nuits St Georges (France)                           BOURGOGNE-

Shop manager

Le Relais Des Caves(wine shop)                                     Lyon (France)

AssistantWinemaker

Château Guillemin La Gaffelliére                                 St Emillion (France)                                    BORDEAUX-

Assistant Winemaker and Vinegrower (Internship)

Cave de Tain                                                                Tain l’Hermitage (France)                              -COTES DU RHONE-

4. What got you into the wine business: Bloodline. I come from a French farming family from Northern Rhone. Even if my parents weren’t in the wine business, my father’s love of wine and my farming roots with my uncle and grandfather were enough for me to pursue wine education after high school.

5. Why you choose the route/role you did: My route was pretty easy, I wanted to get back to the farming world. But I didn’t have any estate or winery to get back to, I was young and wanted to travel. Winemaking makes it easy to travel. I moved to Beaune in Burgundy where I studied, and then decided to travel France to diversify my experience, winemaking style and techniques: Rhone, Burgundy, Bordeaux, Provence, Jura. But that wasn’t enough, I decided to start working outside France: Fruili in Italy, Paarl in South Africa, and finally Virginia in the United States.

6. Description of your approach: It was a very organic approach; I didn’t have a master plan when I started traveling, However, with hindsight it did give me lot flexibility in my winemaking and also it helped me to be open minded.

7. The one thing about wine you most want to figure out, and why: There is no end of learning. The more I know the more I realized that I know nothing…. ignorance is a blessing!

8. Your blind spots (where you need to improve): As I said, I realized that is still need to learn a lot. There are lots of wine regions I don’t fully understand. I also need to keep tasting “great and iconic wines,” though that’s difficult to do when you are young and don’t have the financial resources to get to these bottles.

9. Where and what do you want to be doing in ten years: When I started to work in Virginia in 2003 it was supposed to be for 1 year…and I am still here after 15 years…so I guess I am not very good in planning the future. I could still be here. I could be back in France to work with my brother at Domaine Finot. I could be resuming my travel through the wine world with my family. I still would like to go to New Zealand…crystal ball help me!

10. Top-3 bucket list wines: There are so many….Domiane Romanee Conti, Domaine Leflaive le Montrachet Grand Cru and Gaja Sori San Lorenzo.

Ben Jordan – Early Mountain Vineyards and Lightwell Survey

 

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Ben Jordan (credit: Lightwell Survey)

Ben and Matthieu were kind enough to help form a small group of winemakers for a roundtable I organized earlier this year to discuss how Virginia winemakers approach developing tannin in their wine. Later, I visited Early Mountain for a tour and tasting. You can read all about it here on The Cork Report. Months earlier, however, I had a phone call with Ben to discuss petit mensang, a white vitis vinifera variety that does particularly well in Virginia when grown and made by someone with a lot of patience and guts.

Petit mensang has been a fascination of mine since 2013. Around that time viognier was becoming the rage in Virginia after a certain then-governor thought it’d be a great idea to basically endorse it as the state grape. Viognier is a thin skinned, tightly clustered grape, which makes it perfect for Virginia’s cool and wet climate. Yes, that’s sarcasm. What a dumb call. Nevertheless, it led to a boom in viognier planting and production. There are smart people – smarter than myself on wine – who, while agreeing that this was a stupid announcement, believe that high quality viognier can still be a fixture in the state. I’d rather it be petit mensang, which I believe can produce more interesting wine in Virginia while coping much better with its climate.

All that said, petit mensang is an even more challenging grape to grow, and wine to make, than viognier if you want to make a dry wine from it. This is a major headwind against it among winemakers. The variety puts on sugar and acid at an incredible rate while on the vine, which makes fermenting it to dryness (no remaining sugar) very hard if you want to produce a wine that won’t melt your tongue with acid. Ben is known as one of, if not the, best petit mensang masters in Virginia. This is what drew me to him originally.

After the conversation and wines presented at the tannin round table, it became evident that he knew far more than just petit mensang. The more I’ve taken to examining tannin, the more I’ve realized that a winemaker’s knowledge of how to use the science of tannin can be a helpful marker in determining how purposeful they are in producing wines, and a harbinger of the quality of their wine. A winemaker that can make a top quality dry petit mensang that captures both the typicity of the grape and its terroir and a range of red wines that span the full tannin spectrum is one to watch. Enter Ben Jordan. And watch him for indications of a Virginia petit verdot revolution (see below).

1. Winery and role: Winemaker at Early Mountain Vineyards and Lightwell Survey. Winegrowing partner with my brothers for our vineyard/winery project in Fort Defiance in the Shenandoah Valley.

2. Number of years in the wine business: 15.

3. Previous wineries/roles: Michael Shaps Wineworks – Winemaker; Dutcher Crossing – Assistant winemaker; C. Donatiello – Assistant winemaker.

4. What got you into the wine business: My family wanted to plant a vineyard in the Shenandoah Valley, and at the same time I moved to NYC with an MFA in playwriting. I needed income, so I started working in retail wine sales.

5. Why you choose the route/role you did: I fell hard for the world of wine when I was working retail and for an importer, and since my family wanted to plant a vineyard, I decided I needed to learn winemaking. I signed on to do a harvest in Sonoma County, because I was told that was the way to get a foot in the door. That worked, and I was offered a full-time position. Once I had a winemaking foundation, I contacted Michael [Shaps], because he had a finger on the pulse of Virginia.

6. Description of your approach: Evolving and open, leaning toward precision and purity. We are still in such a foundational place in the mid-Atlantic that I am of the opinion we need to remain exploratory, look for the next generation vineyards, and plant them with varieties that will make for a successful industry. We are building, and it is important that the work we do now is thoughtful and creative.

7. The one thing about wine you most want to figure out, and why: Sustainable wine farming, because I want to feel comfortable with my daughters working in the family vineyards. This may mean non-vinifera, or new wave vinifera hybrids, because even materials that are sprayed in organic programs can be pretty nasty.

8. Your blind spots (where you need to improve): Blending. We do a lot of blending at Early Mountain, and every year I realize I want/need to do better. Growing, see above. Petit Verdot. Like Petit Manseng, this grape offers a lot of potential, but I still need to understand what it wants to be.

9. Where and what do you want to be doing in ten years: I want to be in Virginia making the first wines off of next generation vineyards that I have helped plant in the next five years. I also want my family business to be in a healthy place.

10. Top-3 bucket list wines: Pretty sure I need to taste DRC [Domaine Romanee Conti] before I kick, so might as well be La Tache. I would love to go into the Sherry bodegas and taste some of their oldest soleras straight from cask. A wine made by the next generation of my family, whether it be my daughters or my brothers’ children, or both. And hopefully I can taste that wine with 20 years of bottle age on it, because that will mean I am decently healthy in my 80s or 90s.

Evan Martin – Martin Woods Winery

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Evan Martin on his property

Evan Martin’s approach to winemaking is one of the most interesting ideas I’ve come across in my exploration of wine, and likely the most interesting of my 2018. It’s not that it’s particularly genius (no disrespect to Evan) so much as it is, ‘why isn’t anyone else doing this?’ because it’s a logical extension of what is bedrock boutique winemaking, and something that many wineries could do if they wanted. It’s essentially this: true expression of terroir should include barrels (if applicable) made from local trees.

Nearly every winery I end up visiting, and nearly every winemaker I meet, talks about their particular terroir. When they do, they focus on the soil, vineyard particulars (aspect, slope, etc.) and climate, and how those elements effect the grapes they grow. Then they talk about the various ways in which they try to let that terroir come through in the glass. Evan has an additional talking point: he makes his own barrels from the trees on his property (in the Willamette Valley in Oregon). Oak has an emphatic impact on the wine, and so when Oregon wine gets put into French oak, it can’t really be called Oregon wine anymore if we believe in terroir: it has a component from France that is altering the taste and structure of the final product.

To be clear, Evan is not snobbish about this at all. He just has the interest, patience and resources (trees) to try it out, and so he is. I was impressed by the results, which I wrote about here, but I need a bigger sample size to really know whether Oregon oak makes a better wine. Nevertheless, he’s doing something quite different that’s worth thinking about and trying.

1. Winery and role: Martin Woods, owner/winemaker.

2. Number of years in the wine business: 15.

3. Previous wineries/roles: Seven Hills Winery ‘04/’05 harvest intern; Belle Pente Vineyard and Winery ’09-’11 harvest intern, ’12-’17 Assistant Winemaker.

4. What got you into the wine business: An Oz Clark wine book and a fantastic little wine shop in Seattle called European Vine Selections.

5. Why you choose the route/role you did: I became obsessed with the concept of terroir. Casey McClellan at Seven Hills gave me a great introduction to careful, attentive winemaking and the goal of making elegant wines above all. I then explored the buying/service side of the business for a few years, developing a keen interest in wines from the cool-climate regions of France in particular. And I was captured by the principles of the natural wine movement—which are still important to me today, although I don’t refer to myself a natural winemaker for certain reasons. That subject, like great winemaking, is nuanced and unfortunately the discussion about it is all too often shallow and polarized.

6. Description of your approach: The last couple of years, I’m making about 4,500 cases of wine by myself, so my approach is minimal by necessity! But actually, this is a conscious choice. I like to be present for every moment that something is happening or being done to my wine. Each of these moments is an opportunity for my senses to check in with the wines, to catch potential issues before they become problems or to confirm or re-evaluate my strategy for that particular wine. I never make wine exactly the same way twice; I’m always adjusting to try to support what I perceive to be the zeitgeist of the wine and the vintage. This flexibility carries through the entire elevage period to bottling. For me, extreme attentiveness allows me to be “hands-off” with the wines; it allows me to be ‘natural’ in my approach and at the same time produce unfined/unfiltered wines that are clean, classic, deeply compelling and long-lived. Most importantly, what paves the way for a “hands-off” approach is choosing vineyard terroirs that truly give the qualities that you’re looking for in the wines, so you don’t have to try to shape them in to something they don’t want to be. That’s why I mostly work with the coolest, latest-ripening parts of the Willamette which are the neighborhoods that are most influenced by the cooling effect of the Van Duzer winds—the Van Duzer Corridor AVA, the McMinnville AVA and the Eola-Amity Hills AVA. These terroirs give wines that are structure-driven, with aromas and textures that are discernibly ‘cool-climate’ in character.

I guess it’s also noteworthy about our approach that we’re using our local Oregon oak to age a lot of our wines because we’re trying to make the most distinctive, terroir-driven wines that we possibly can. I love the qualities of French oak, but I don’t think it makes our Oregon wines more distinctive; quite the opposite actually, it makes them more like wines from other producing regions, because everyone around the world is using French oak, its use has become quite formulaic.

7. The one thing about wine you most want to figure out, and why: One question I’ve been thinking about lately is, ‘can we produce amazing cabernet franc in the Willamette Valley? Why?’ Great cab franc (and I’m thinking of le Loire here) stirs passions in men’s souls, the same way that great pinot noir can. We have to expect that our climate is warming slightly, so growing CF is looking increasingly attractive.

Otherwise, I’m realizing I can’t really figure out anything about wine, not to a scientific degree. I’m concerning myself less and less with lab numbers and just embracing instinct and sense. The real frontier in my experience is always trying to find out what vineyard terroirs produce the most compelling wine. The Willamette Valley now has fifty years of collective experience under its belt, but we’re still young at understanding our terroirs. I do think that fifty years from now the scene will be quite different than today.

8. Your blind spots (where you need to improve): Discipline. I drink too much, it’s part of the business and I love the craft and I love checking in with what my peers are producing, here and across the pond. I recently read an interview with Bobby Stuckey and he talks about discipline and how it relates to the craft of being a great sommelier. I think he was spot on with what he said about discipline and I feel the same about the craft of making great wine. It takes a lot of discipline to remain fresh, creative and responsive to the (extremely) challenging work load of harvest, when in a matter of weeks a winemaker is making dozens of decisions that determine the trajectory of a wine for the rest of its life. I admire the older (than me, I’m 37) winemakers in the community that have had the discipline and stamina to be highly successful in this profession for 20-50 years. The names are too numerous to mention.

9. Where and what do you want to be doing in ten years: Sarah (my wife, who is the vineyard brains in the family) and I would like to plant a small vineyard on our property in the McMinnvillle AVA. We’re taking our time with this, as there are a lot of things to ponder…chiefly among them, what to plant and what are the right clones? If I was planting tomorrow, I would probably mostly plant chardonnay, as our neighborhood seems to be just exceptional for it, being as we are tucked in to the foothills of the Coast Range as well as on the shoulder of the Van Duzer gap. The mountains and the wind make it a little cooler here, so the chardonnay here has great tension from bright acidity, but with good sun exposure you can also get fantastic weight and depth.

10. Top-3 bucket list wines: I haven’t been very careful about cataloging a memory of great wines that I’ve had. There are so many wonderful wines that I can’t remember the producer. I tend to think more about regions…Alsace, Beaujolais, Bourgogne, Loire, northern Rhone. The few times in my life I’ve had first-growth Bordeaux the wines have been splendid—taught, fresh, balanced, structured.

Furthermore, I don’t spend money on cult wines. I don’t mean Screaming Eagle. I mean, I love Clos Rougeard, but I don’t buy it. I don’t hold it against them for charging what they can for highly sought-after wines that by necessity need to be allocated. But there are other producers making incredible wines at reasonable prices, without any hype, and I love finding those wines. That’s maybe the best thing that great Sommeliers and wine shops do, they connect consumers with unsung or underrated wineries that over-deliver.

Adam Lee – Clarice Wine Company and Siduri Wines

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The author, Adam Lee (far right) and some friends enjoying themselves

I met Adam when he and a mutual friend came to our apartment for a party that we held because we had a number of random people in town visiting and didn’t know how else to see all of them while they were here. A lot of fun was had, really fantastic wine was brought and consumed, and bonding occurred.

As I got to know him more after that evening, one of the things that stood out most about Adam is that, good God man, he can’t sleep much given all he’s doing. Good Vitis readers will learn more about Adam in the coming months. We’re sitting on a trio of pinot noirs from his newest project, Clarice Wine Company, letting them recover from their journey from one coast to the other. We’ll try them soon, interview Adam, and then write it up. So stay tuned for that exciting piece.

Siduri, a winery he founded and where he still makes wine, is no small deal: wines from six regions across two states, multiple wines from each region, and all good quality and compelling. The website currently lists 18 different wines – 17 pinot and one zinfandel – for sale. All, by the way, under screwcap, including his highest priced bottles. Add the Clarice Wine Company project, which is an unusual business model built around a rather robust wine club program (more on that in the upcoming piece), and this guy is making a lot of wine. Then, the many visits to France and elsewhere because Adam can’t ever stop learning (his Facebook page makes me wonder how much time he actually spends in America, let alone California where he makes his wine), and I just can’t imagine he gets to spend much time at home. It’s all rather inspiring to me: the level of passion for wine and business that this man exhibits is enviable.

1. Winery and role: Owner, Clarice Wine Company. Winemaker, Siduri Wines. Consultant for a few other wineries.

2. Number of years in the wine business: In one form or another since 1988. Started making wine in 1994.

3. Previous wineries/roles: Direct Sales Manager at Benziger, Tasting Room Manager at a few places before that. But really Siduri Wines as founder, owner, winemaker.

4. What got you into the wine business: I got into wine retail first as Assistant Manager at a wine store in Austin, Texas. I had developed a love of wine during a trip to California between my junior and senior years in college.

5. Why you choose the route/role you did: I think it chose me. I never really had a plan, never planned on making wine. The idea of making wine was actually Dianna’s idea (my wife). She thought that if I was going to write about wine (I was considering the lucrative career of wine writing) [ED’s note: don’t I know it] I should try and make it first. So we did so, with the 1994 vintage and 4 ½ barrels of pinot noir. We then proceeded to get drunk one night and take a sample to Robert Parker while he was staying over at Meadowood Resort. Fortunately, he liked the wine and wrote it up in the Wine Advocate. That was the beginning for us.

6. Description of your approach: Making pinot noir is a unique combination of remembering and forgetting. Remembering lessons from the past and implementing them into a similar vintage. But also realizing that each vintage is unique and thus not falling into a pattern of making wine a certain way but rather reacting to what is given to you each year. Finding that balance between remembering and forgetting is the challenge.

7. The one thing about wine you most want to figure out, and why: I am confused and fascinated by what truly makes winemaking work. Let me give you an example. Some winemakers swear by whole cluster in pinot noir and make remarkable wines doing so (Jeremy Seysses at Dujac). Other winemakers abhor whole clusters and will never use them and make remarkable wines following that route (Henri Jayer). How does that work? What commonalities are there at these places and are those the key to what makes great Burgundy? Or is the key truly intent and following with great devotion what you believe and in doing that you will make great wine? I ponder these things.

8. Your blind spots (where you need to improve): I write horrific wine descriptors. Ironic for someone who wanted to be a wine writer. I grew up in a time and place where all the fruit I ate came in a can and was floating in simple syrup. Consequently, describing the flavors of a wine is something I suck at. I am okay with the weight and tannin/acid structure of a wine, but describing flavors – geez, I am bad at that.

9. Where and what do you want to be doing in ten years: I want to be making pinot noir. Not just making pinot noir but immersed in pinot noir. I want to be doing less, but more in-depth. I believe that is my passion and my calling. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing. I also hope to be spending time with my kids…then adults…and sharing and learning from them.

10. Top-3 bucket list wines: Good question:

1984 Rochioli Pinot Noir — First red wine that I ever fell in love with. Started my love affair with pinot noir and that has never ended.

Fall Creek Winery (Texas) White Zinfandel – The first wine I ever shared with a winemaker. Ed Auler, the owner/winemaker and I were walking through his vineyard in Tow, Texas on a typically hot Texas day and he reached into his backpack and pulled out a chilled bottle (ice packs). He popped it then and there and we passed it back and forth while walking the vines drinking it out of the bottle.

1986 Chateau Margaux – Maybe the first classic, great wine that I ever tasted. I loved the 1985 and thought it was amazing, but when I tasted the 1986 I was blown away. It was remarkable and made me realize that there’s a whole world of extraordinary wine out there for me to experience.

 

Oregon Wine Month Extravaganza

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Willamette Valley is my favorite American wine region to visit. It has a near-optimal balance of beauty, tranquility, quality wine, quality people and proximity to a decently-sized airport. Though not mountainous in the snow-capped sense, it is an obvious valley with beautiful slopes, rolling hills and a discernible floor. Though remote in feel, its northern tip is barely an hour from Portland. Though dominated by world class pinot noir and chardonnay, it offers fantastic examples of other varieties as well, notably gamay, syrah, pinot gris and riesling in my book. Though world class in quality and price and winery aesthetics, its wine professionals are accessible and friendly and the pretense low. The Willamette Valley is what comes to mind when I think of a trip to wine country.

For those who cannot make it in-person, May was Oregon Wine Month (or so says the industry) and an excuse to delve into the State’s wines. I’m lucky enough to be planning a trip to Willamette in late July, but that didn’t mean I was about to let May slip by without spending serious time with Oregon wine. Jackson Family Wines (I’ll refer to them as “KJ” for Kendall-Jackson, their main label) was kind enough to send me an array of wines from their Oregon portfolio, and I divvied them up into sets of three to explore over five evenings at the end of the month. I posted comments and partial reviews on our Instagram and Facebook accounts, and promised this full write-up in June. Here we are, barely over deadline.

Some words on KJ before I talk about Oregon. I think the content on this blog demonstrates that a large majority of my focus is on the little guy. This isn’t so much a conscious decision I make, something born out of a David and Goliath complex or a distaste for corporations, but rather one driven by the reality that smaller producers tend to push the limits and experiment in interesting ways that catch my attention while producing wines that are, on balance, more engaging and satisfying than the big guys. Yet this is my second piece that heavily features KJ wineries, and in this case it has an exclusive focus on them. So what gives?

I was introduced to KJ corporate through a winemaker dinner I attended in Washington, DC featuring Shane Moore, winemaker at Oregon’s Zena Crown and Gran Moraine wineries, both of which are KJ properties. I wrote a piece on that wine dinner making the case for attending winemaker dinners, and have included Shane in several additional Good Vitis pieces, including a solo profile, because I respect the guy so damn much as a winemaking talent and all-around good dude. This led to a relationship with several people at KJ headquarters, which led to help organizing an incredible Napa trip in December of last year and the upcoming Willamette trip this summer. Through my interactions with KJ corporate people and the wineries they own, I came to appreciate just how much Barbara Banke, the chairman and proprietor of KJ, and her staff respect the soul of the wineries they purchase and don’t impinge, as far as I can tell, much on the wineries. Instead, KJ spends time and money on promoting the wines and authentic stories of the wineries and personalities that originally put them on KJ’s radar while providing the resources to foster growth and quality improvement. I’m sure it’s not all sunshine and puppies, and I certainly don’t want to project a sense that I know more than I do, but I enjoy many of the wineries they own on the merits of the wine and approach taken to make them.

Oregon AVAs Oregon Wine Press

Source: Oregon Wine Press

Oregon has more than one wine region, though I imagine Willamette is the best known. Oregon boasts eighteen American Viticultural Areas (AVAs), which are spread among three main areas. One runs the length of the Interstate 5 corridor (generously conceived for this purpose) between the Washington and California borders,  another comprises a good chunk of the northern border with Washington along the Columbia River, and the other along the state’s Eastern border. This geography covers a number of different terroirs. My favorite Oregon syrah is made by Cowhorn, which is located about 15 miles north of the California border, while my favorite pinot producer, Cameron, is a six hour drive to the north. Some of the most famed syrah produced by Washington wineries is, in fact, grown just south of the Washington-Oregon border in Northeastern Oregon. The Columbia Gorge, which runs East-West across the top of the State, is a growing wine region with a burgeoning reputation on both sides of the border. The wines covered in this piece, though all come from Willamette Valley, represent the Yamhill-Carlton and Eola-Amity AVAs as well as a few that are blends from across the Valley.

Yamhill-Carlton was established as an AVA in 2004. It’s about 40 miles east of the Pacific Ocean, and gets some weather buffering from the Coast Range Mountains, which top out at 3,500 feet above sea level, that stand between it and the ocean. To the north, Chehalem Mountain adds some additional protection, as do the Dundee Hills to the east. The soils are mainly marine sedimentary that lies on top of sandstone and siltstone, a combination that tends to moderate acid development.

Eola-Amity came online as an AVA two years after Yamhil-Carlton. It’s home to Oregon’s longest continuously operating winery, Honeywood Winery, and is located to the south and east of Yamhill-Carlton. Though more inland, it still receives good air flow through a break in the Coastal Range called the Van Duzer Corridor. This keeps the summers and winters temperate, and luckily for producers the rain tends to fall mostly outside the growing season. The soils are a mix of volcanic basalt, marine sendimentary and alluvial deposits, a combination leading to shallow and well-drained soils that help build concentration.

For the first night of this Oregon Wine Month project, I chose Yamhill-Carlton designates from Siduri and Gran Moraine and a Willamette Valley blend from Penner-Ash. Regarding the first two, it’s always fun to see how producers in the same area compare to each other, and in these two I got the contrast I wanted.

Siduri is a California winery focused on pinot noir started by Adam Lee, who also makes the wine. Adam recently sold Siduri to KJ, but agreed to stay on as winemaker. I was fortunate enough to enjoy an incredible evening of wine and discussion with Adam when he visited my area earlier this year, and so was excited to try his Oregon pinot. We exchanged some emails subsequently, and I asked him how he made Oregon wine living in California. It’s an interesting explanation, so I’m going to quote him:

“I’ve been making wine from Oregon grapes since 1995 (the second year of Siduri). We made our first wine, in 1994, at Lambert Bridge Winery where we worked in the tasting room. The GM at Lambert Bridge owned some land in Oregon that he had planted with pinot noir and was impressed enough with what we did in 1994 to sell us grapes in 1995. That’s how we got into Oregon. Since that 1995 vintage we always shipped grapes back to California using a refrigerated truck. The shipping itself is pretty easy, and if the truck is set right around freezing the grapes arrive in fantastic shape. Beginning with the 2015 vintage, the sale to Jackson Family Wines, and the larger quantity of wine we were making, we started making more of the wine up in Oregon. So we trucked some of the stuff down but made more of it up in Oregon. I’d fly up every week on Monday, back on Wednesday. Ryan Zepaltas, our assistant winemaker, flew up on Wednesday and back on Friday. So we basically spent the entire week up there.”

I also asked Adam how he might make his Oregon wines differently than he does his Californian bottles. “There are many years where we do have to do things differently with Oregon fruit than California fruit….but in the last few vintages (2014-2016) there were more similarities in the grapes than in other vintages. Thus there wasn’t nearly as much to do differently,” he told me. “One thing we do always is take a look at malic percentages. Oregon can come in with higher malic levels – so although the grapes come in with great acidity, a lot of it falls out through malolactic fermentation. That really wasn’t an issue in 2015.  In fact, 2015 was just about as ideal of a harvest as you could imagine. Arguably the best year we’ve ever had in Oregon.”

The Siduri and Gran Moraine Yamhill-Carltons, like most of the wines in this article, come from the 2015 vintage. I asked Shane Moore, Gran Moraine’s winemaker, about the vintage, and he threw a serious of adjectives at me: “Expressive. Super heady. Great acidity. Transparency.” Capped off with “Pinot lovers rejoice!”

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Siduri’s Yamhill-Carlton is a blend of Gran Moraine Vineyard and the vineyard at Gran Moraine Winery (yes, these are two distinctly different vineyards). Adam explained that “the vineyard at the winery is entirely dry farmed and, even early in the growing season, I knew it was going to be the first grapes picked. You could tell by looking at the early yellowing leaves. That fruit did, indeed, arrive early. We destemmed it all. We let the fruit at the Gran Moraine hang longer (with careful irrigation), which allowed us to get riper stems and utilize more whole clusters in those ferments.”

I found the nose of the Siduri to be deep and hedonistic, offering sweet cherry, cola, ink, cassis, kirsch and rose. It’s full bodied with smooth and plush tannin and bright acidity, everything appearing in good balance that I think will improve even more with time. Flavors are tarter than the nose, delivering cherry, cranberry, huckleberry, wet pavement, pastel florals and a small dose of wet soil. 91 pts, value B+.

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The Gran Moraine, in my experience with this and previous vintages, delivers incredible value for pinot noir. The slightly restrained nose wafts boysenberry, dark earth, olive brine, lightly tanned leather and orange zest. Boarding on full bodied, it has velvety tannins and shiny acid that’s well integrated. The substantial depth of this one demands a good decant, and benefits from keeping it in your mouth for an extended period of time to experience its development. I think this has good medium-term aging potential. Flavors hit on pomegranate, acai, plum, black olive, currant, wet soil and juniper berry. 92 pts, value A-.

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The Penner-Ash Willamette Valley pinot noir is distributed nationally and shows up on a lot of restaurant wine lists around the country. It serves as Penner-Ash’s entry point pinot, and is one that tries to strike a widely appealing profile. I’ve had a number of vintages and it tends to show very little variation from year-to-year, making its consistency an appealing asset for consumers who like knowing what they’re getting each time. Nevertheless, it usually offers good depth for the price, and is one that I always wish I could have a few years of bottle age.

The 2015 has a saturated nose of plummy cherry, Dr. Pepper, graphite and lavender. It’s rocking a full body that enters thick. The tannin is restrained but mouth-filling and slightly grainy, and the acid strikes a good level. Flavors are a briar patch of blackberry, raspberry and boysenberry complimented nicely by baking spice and just a touch of saline. While it’s nice now, I’d love to try this one again in 2020 and expect it to do well for a few additional years. 91 points, value: B+.

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On night number two, I took a similar but more narrow approach in choosing two wines that come from the same vineyard, but then added a white into the mix. The latter, a pinot gris, was my first introduction to WillaZenzie Estate, a winery that quickly became a revelation. All of WillaKenzie’s wines come from their own vineyards, and many of their wines are vineyard-designates. I’ll get to a number of their pinots later, but the 2017 pinot gris has a voluminously perfumed nose of grapefruit, peach, gravel, slate lime zest and marzipan. Lean on entry, it gains body as it sits in the mouth. The acid is nicely balanced, neither subdued nor overbearing. Key Lime pie, starfruit and grapefruit dominate the fruit profile, though the stony minerality really drives the length of this linear, focused wine. Impressive effort. 90 points, Value A.

The two reds hark from the famed Zena Crown vineyard. I asked Shane what makes the vineyard so special. “It’s all about the terroir! Fantastic soils (both volcanic and sedimentary); Great SW facing aspects; cold evening wind at night during the summer; in the sweet spot for Oregon viticulture in terms of elevation at 200-800ft,” he said.

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The first of the two reds was the 2015 Hartford Family Winery Warrior Princess Block Zena Crown Vineyard pinot noir, which has a deep, serious nose boasting aromas of briar berry compote, dark dusty cocoa, graphite, lavender, tar and candied red apple. It’s nimble on the palate, exhibiting youthful finesse. The gorgeous tannins provide a sturdy frame, but don’t overpower while the acid is spot-on. Though I wouldn’t call the structure elegant, it has skillfully found a balance between power and finesse that’s intriguing. In the flavor department you get black and boysenberry, very dark chocolate, rose petals, lavender, Herbs de Provence, and wet soil. Though it’s good now, it will be better in five years. 92 points, value: C.

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The 2015 Zena Crown Slope has a youthful nose that is still growing into itself, though it promises to be a thing of beauty. Detecting ripe cherry, raspberry, plum and multiple florals. The texture on this one is stunning; talk about velvety tannins, there’s no end to them or their silkiness. The acid is on-point as well. Simply stunning. The flavors will require a bit more time to match the texture, but they don’t disappoint at this stage with sweet plum sauce, dark cherries, chocolate mousse, graphite, cinnamon, nutmeg and just a hint of green onion spice. Not for the faint of heart, and worthy of ten years in the cellar. 94 points, value B.

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Shout out to Zena Crown for the short foil. I’ve long wished wineries eschewed them altogether so customers could see the condition of the cork.

On the third night, I randomly selected three wines: two pinots and a chardonnay. Some Burgundian producers prefer to serve these varieties in what might otherwise be reverse order: red first, then white. Because pinot isn’t a heavy or cloying red, it can be followed by a white that brings sharper acidity and good body. I’ve always preferred this method and followed it again this time to great success.

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The 2015 Willakenzie Pierre Leon was the revelation of this entire Oregon Wine Month line up for me. It offers a very ripe and pretty nose wafting raspberry, cut cherry, perfumed rose and tangerine peel. It’d medium in weight with very juicy acidity, I just love how it coats the mouth. The tannins are subtle, but the wine is no wimp. The flavor profile is also ripe and pretty with raspberry, cherry, potpourri, tangerine, light tobacco, white pepper and Chervil. This is an elegant wine in structure, aroma and flavor. It reminds me of Musigny. I’d love to have it with another 5-8 years of age. 94 points, value A.

Next was the 2015 La Crema Willamette Valley pinot noir, which is another nationally distributed bottle that aims to find all sorts of middle ground and appeal to a wide audience. It has a fairly dark nose featuring cherry compote, raspberry chocolate cake and wet tar. The mouth is round and smooth, the acid bright and the tannins restrained. Flavors are fruit-forward with sweet cherry and strawberry, while subtle pepper and Herbs de Provence drive the finish. Not the most complex wine, but enjoyable. 89 points, value B+.

Finally came the white. The 2015 Gran Moraine Yamhill-Carlton chardonnay is benchmark Oregon chardonnay in my book and the twinkle in the Gran Moraine eye. Priced in the mid $40s, it’s not cheap, but routinely out performs many of the State’s more expensive chardonnays. This vintage is a stellar one. The nose gives off sweet oak, dried mango, honeysuckle, vanilla custard and a smidge of Earl Grey tea. It’s a plush medium weight on the palate with a bit of a glycerin sensation that I just love. The barrel influence is restrained but present in the structure and flavors as well as the nose, it’s managed just right for this profile. There’s oak vanillin, Meyer lemon, sweet cream, Thai basil, persimmon and dried apricot. 93 points, value A.

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Night number four introduced a rosé. I’m finding more and more that pinot has a pureness about it that other red varieties don’t deliver in rosé form. The 2017 WillaKenzie Estate Rosé delivers serious pureness on the nose, which I completely dug, though the palate seems a bit disjointed at this stage and may need a few months in bottle to merge. It has a nose of bright crushed strawberry, cantaloupe, crushed limestone and coriander. It’s on the fuller side of the rose spectrum, and quite lush. The acid is kicking. The fruit zeros in on strawberry, cranberry and salmon berry, while there are touches of nutmeg and parsley that seem out of place. 88 points, value C.

The 2015 Siduri Willamette Valley pinot noir seemed a little thin and hasn’t quite delineated itself yet on the palate to the point of flavors becoming individually discernible. It has, though, achieved an impressive balance that suggests it can fill out. I suspect it may just need a few more months in bottle to come together. The round, ripe nose is mostly about the strawberry, raspberry and cherry, though dark, wet soil adds some depth. It’s of medium weight on the palate, largely due to the juicy, bright acidity that brings levity. The tannins are quite refined, and the balance is impressive, though ultimately this feels a bit thin. The flavors are slightly muted at this stage. The fruit is a bit generically red, though there are some pretty florals – rose petals mostly – trying to peep through. I think three to six months in the bottle will bring this together, though longer aging is likely unnecessary. 88 points, and on the assumption that it will come together, it gets an A value.

The 2015 Penner-Ash Estate Vineyard pinot noir offers a boatload of potential for the patient. The nose boarders on hedonistic, and offers some killer aromas of iron, black strap molasses and bruised strawberry and blackberry, though it’s obvious that with some bottle age there will be more to come. The body is as full-throttled, and the tannin structure and acid suggest a minimum of 5-6 years is required for it to really come together, though I’d give it a decade to allow the full range of fruit and Earthy flavors to shine: Acai, pomegranate, raspberry, blackberry, tar, black tea and black pepper all duck and weave through a robust tannin structure and acid that will need to relax for this wine to show its best self. This will be an all-star if one can wait a solid decade. Penner-Ash’s Estate Vineyard has some cool stuff going on. 92 points, value A-.

For the fifth and final night I reserved all WillaKenzie pinots, though as it turns out, night three’s Pierre Leon was my favorite from the producer. Those four are all part of the estate’s single vineyard bottle program that draw from estate vineyards that are very close to each other, though each has its distinct personality and profile. For those unconvinced of terroir, pouring the Pierre Leon and these three blind, and then showing the vineyard map, ought to be enough to suspect the French were on to something.

Willakenzie vineyard-map

Of the three tasted together, the 2015 WillaKenzie Estate Aliette is the most delicate. It’s quite perfumed with a bouquet of Spring flowers and rose potpourri, cherry, strawberry, juniper, clove, and allspice on this high-toned nose. The palate is modest in weight, but round and smooth. Tannin is well integrated, while the acid is pleasantly juicy and slightly tart. The range of red fruit is impressive: strawberry, cranberry, huckleberry and raspberry, plus a not-so-minor role for plum. Tar, pepper and mulled spices feature on the back end. Pretty, but uninspiring at the moment, I suspect it will reach a higher elevation with three to five years of aging. 92 points, value A-.

The 2015 WillaKenzie Estate Kiana gives the impression of purple-ness. Its nose is reserved at the moment, though it offers promise with fruit punch aromas, uncured bacon and molasses. The tannin is fine grained and refined, the acid juicy and the overall weight modest. The flavors a bit more alive than the nose at this stage, with raspberry, boysenberry and pomegranate driving a profile supported by tobacco leaf and tar. Coming together nicely, I think it’ll continue to develop positively over the next five to ten years. 93 points, value: A.

While the 2015 WillaKenzie Estate Emery is a bit reticent on the nose at the moment, it delivers licorice, molasses, blackberry and pepper. The body is big and round, though the acid keeps it plucky and the tannins are integrated sufficiently to maintain the smooth profile. Slightly savory on the palate, it offers uncured bacon, red currant, red plum, Acai, black pepper and tarragon. This is a compelling package that I’d love to revisit in five plus years. 94 points, value A.

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I love Oregon wine. This line up of 15 bottles reaffirmed that. The quality is there. The terroir is there. The talent is there. It’s just a fantastic place to produce high quality pinot and chardonnay that has distinction from the world’s other pinots and chardonnays, as well as, as mentioned above, a number of other varieties (for fans of savory syrah, old school riesling, and refined pinot gris, Oregon has stones worth turning over). It has a soul, which is not something that every wine region can legitimately claim. I think this is in part because the world seems to have left the State relatively alone long enough for it to find its identity and strengths and settle in on its own terms. It’s probably insulting to say that its wine is ready for the world, since it has been for a while now, but commercially it has a lot of unrealized potential and I’d like to see more wine drinkers across the world take note. Oregon Wine Month 2019 is another eleven months away, but don’t sit on Oregon wine until then.