Hawk Wakawaka Wine Reviews

Tasting the Sonoma Coast with Pax Mahle, Wind Gap Wines

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 13, 2013

Thank you to Eric Asimov for recommending this post in The New York Time’s Diner’s Journal “What We’re Reading,” February 15, 2013.

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Focus on the California Coast

When I arrive at Wind Gap Winery, Pax Mahle is working on blending components for his Sonoma Coast Syrah. When he’s finished a stage of his work, we begin barrel tasting various small lot experiments that characterize the depth behind Wind Gap Wines. While maintaining focus on his label’s overall quality and central expression, from the beginning Mahle has nurtured his wine through side projects with experimental techniques.

Wind Gap began with a central goal of expressing California Syrah unique to a particular site–the Western rim of the Sonoma Coast. The definitive wine for the label, then, is the Sonoma Coast Syrah, made with a blend of wines from three different vineyard sites within a few miles of the ocean. Though Mahle explains he is invested in an appellation focus, he knows people enjoy vineyard specific bottlings as well. As a result, Wind Gap also offers component bottlings from the Sonoma Coast blend.

Majik Vineyard carries a wild, heady top note that surprises me right out of the glass with its aromatic intensity. Nellessen Vineyard gives everything I love about Syrah–cool, lean, focused fruit, all backbone. “It gives the freshness and attitude of the blend,” Mahle explains. Finally, the Armagh brings the meat. “Armagh is the guts, the bacon, the bones.”

I nod in agreement and comment how much I love Syrah.

Mahle responds, “What I love about these wines is it would be very hard to confuse any of them for anything other than Syrah.”

Each of the four wines come in around 12% alcohol. “Yes, it is low alcohol,” Mahle tells me. “But that is not the point. The site gives that result. These wines could not be more representative of this part of California.” Nellessen Vineyard, as an example, Mahle explains is picked at the very end of the season, the grapes not ripe enough to harvest until November.

In 2000, Mahle and his wife began the label Pax Wine Cellars, along with an investor, with the intention of focusing on site specific Syrah from various parts of Sonoma and Mendocino Counties. The methods used on each bottling were the same–whole cluster, foot tred, with similar duration of elevage. In keeping the techniques basically identical for each site, the wines expressed gave a view of the uniqueness offered from various parts of this portion of the California coast. Some of the wines came in regularly light bodied and around 12%, while other sites easily ground out 15% alcohol. The model made sense to Mahle who saw it as analogous to enjoying Northern Rhone from Hermitage, versus Cornas, for example. If one wine had higher alcohol, and another lower, it was because that was what the site naturally generated.

The wines that gained press attention for Pax Wine Cellars turned out to be the big hoofed work horse wines with higher intensity and higher alcohol. The range of offerings, however, generated some confusion among consumers that would come in expecting each of the wines to offer similar expression–those from the rim of the coast were sometimes taken by the bigger bodied wine lovers to be green. So, to offer greater brand clarity, Mahle started Wind Gap with the intention of carrying those leaner bottlings from the edge of the coast under the new label. Soon after initiating the beginnings of Wind Gap, changes occurred in the original winery partnership at Pax Wine Cellars, leading to Mahle’s attention diving full-time into his newer label, and its expansion beyond Syrah.

Wind Gap Wines arise from a focus on site expression, and the commitment to letting more delicate techniques provide a view into this portion of California. In thinking about the idea of California wine, and the oft referenced perception of more fruit focused, large bodied wines, Mahle turns again to France as a counter-example. “No one would say Languedoc wines should taste like Rhone or Bordeaux. California is much larger, a very big place [larger than those regions in France],” Mahle remarks, “so why can’t we have wines as varied?”

Two old vine bottlings showcase well-established plantings found in Sonoma County. The old vine Mourvedre draws fruit from vines planted in the 1880s at the Bedrock Vineyard of Sonoma Valley. The wine is impressively expressive while light in presentation. It’s a good, enjoyable wine. “The Mourvedre is fun to drink. I like to have fun.” Mahle remarks.

The old vine Grenache celebrates bunches grown in Alexander Valley in a vineyard entirely dry farmed in sand (an impressive feat). The vines are 70-80 years old. The wine is made partially carbonic with two different picking selections at two different levels of ripeness–the combination offering greater dimensionality to the final wine. It’s style echoes that of the Mourvedre while carrying the zest and red fruit zing of Grenache.

Two Chardonnays show other aspects of the history of California wine. The Brousseau Vineyard in Chalone grows 38 year old vines in granite and limestone offering incredibly small berries, impressive concentration and that limestone-zing finish. The Yuen blend brings the Brousseau fruit in concert with 50 year old vines from James Berry vineyard in Paso Robles, only 10 miles from the coast. The combination lifts the intensity and seriousness of the Brousseau, into a balance of juicy citrus and blossom vibrancy with an under current of nuttiness and bread crust.

The Pinot Noir surprises me. (I hadn’t realized they were making one, to be honest.) It’s an intriguing and inviting wine, with a belly of dark fruit carried on a savory expression. It’s light with still great presence.

What is common through the Wind Gap label is clean wines with strong lines. The structure is impressive throughout, the fruit allowed to speak for itself. These wines do not insist upon themselves, or demand you to listen. Instead, they compel your interest, leaving you happy to give it. There is great complexity here, and confidence. Wind Gap Wines carry intelligence dancing through a core of joy.

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Thank you to Pax Mahle for taking time with me.

Tasting Origins: Original Vine Pinot Gris, Eyrie Vineyards, Willamette Valley, Oregon

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 12, 2013

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In 1965 David Lett planted what would be the first Pinot Gris vineyard in North America, 160 cuttings placed in the ground on their own roots in the Willamette Valley. Today those vines still give fruit, and serve as the source material for all of Eyrie Vineyards Pinot Gris vines.

Jason Lett and I spoke recently about these grapes in particular. “Dad had done cuvée from the original vines, and they were delicious” but Eyrie had never sold such bottlings separately. Jason had wanted to find a way to pay homage to these original vines, however, and so in 2008 started playing with the fruit. He’s produced two different styles of wine with bunches from the original vines. One, a Ramato style, with the fruit fermented on skins for an extended period, then left for extended élevage as well. The other a sans soufre bottling meant to keep the wine as close to the juice of the vineyard as possible. Yesterday, I opened a sample bottle of the 2011 sans soufre.

Drinking the Eyrie Vineyards 2011 Original Vines Pinot Gris

click on comic to enlarge

The wine evolves in the glass. At first opening it offers the tang of carrots and tomato leaf fresh from the garden, an herbal lifted nose and palate. The wine uncurls over the course of the day–lofted, fresh aromas, apricot and plum, just cut button roses, bread with light honey lifting from the glass. The palate moves as well. There is a stimulating vitamin buzz through the mouth carrying into a long soil and saline finish. The flavors offer lilies with their greens, fresh bread and grain with hints of butter, and the groundedness of coffee. The overall presentation is fresh, delicate while lively. I admire this wine both for its history and for its interest.

***

Thank you to Jason Lett for extending this wine to me.

The Original Vines Pinot Gris bottlings from Eyrie Vineyards will be released later this Spring. (I have a bottle of the 2009 Ramato as well and have been reluctant to open it, the gift of irreplaceable treasure. Though I can’t wait to view its copper color.)

Casa Dumetz: Wines with a focus on Care and Convergence, a conversation with Sonja Magdevski

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 11, 2013

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Tasting with Sonja Magdevski

The food has not yet arrived for dinner and Sonja Magdevski, winemaker of Casa Dumetz, has begun interviewing me, though we’ve met for us to talk about her wine. Her work history includes a Masters in Journalism, I discover, and she writes for Malibu Magazine, as well as her own site Malibu Grange. The questions she wants to ask center around the career change I’ve made from teaching and academic philosophy to writing about wine. It leads us through intensive conversation on ideas of faith, commitment, passion, and fear. We both turned from advanced training in one discipline to pursue something different, and it gives us a way to mutually interview each other, both of us getting to talk and listen.

When we meet again two weeks later I discover an interesting correlation in Magdevski’s fascination with journalism and her investment in wine. Both include, for her, a sense of responsibility in freedom.

She explains to me the connection by starting first to describe her work as a writer. “It’s always been fascinating to me, journalism. People spend time with me for an interview, like we are doing now, you and me. After, I get to take all this information, and write anything I want with it. There is a real trust there. I want to show in what I write that I understood and absorbed the conversation. I love the freedom in that but I always ask, what is my responsibility? Who am I responsible to?” Magdevski describes her experience with journalistic interviews like she is being given a gift. She takes an awareness to her work that people are sharing something valuable. The responsibility and freedom both show themselves in her asking what she will do to best recognize that.

Wine parallels journalism, for Magdevski, through a similar process of honoring what she has received and asking herself what she will do with it. “All these hands have touched these grapes in the progress [from vineyard to wine], but in the end the decision [of how to make the wine] is made by one.” In this way, the relationship Magdevski sees between so many layers of human help–nurseries that provide cuttings, vineyard workers that plant and tend vines then harvest the fruit, other winemakers that offer advice and insight, people that later sell and purchase the wine–fuels a passion for her work. Listening to her speak about the process makes clear too that Magdevski has a deep appreciation for what it means to be human, and the value of human life. “In wine I am being given all this time. The grapes, they are a gift of time, and a product, and an experience. People take the time to grow fruit, listen to what I want, and then I get to do whatever I want with that.” She continues, again acknowledging the responsibility of it. “That freedom is exciting, and it is also sort of a test of your character. How are you going to impose yourself or not? The freedom of that is fascinating to me.”

The Wines of Casa Dumetz

In considering how these ideas enter vinification, Magdevski again reflects on the idea of freedom. “I love the freedom of being able to take the wine and make whatever I want, and say, here I am. This is who I am.” She continues, “being able to say, this is what I did. I am open to you now, for better or worse.” What she loves most is letting the fruit character speak through the wine. Still, she gets excited about experimentation in the winery as a way of learning how the different sites show. When we meet the second time it is to barrel taste through her current vintage.

Putting her winemaking in context she tells me, “Viognier is why I started making wine. Grenache is why I keep making it.” We taste through multiple lots of Viognier, Gewurtztraminer, Roussanne, and Syrah. In the midst of the experience, she talks me through five different barrels of Grenache varying by clone and vineyard site. Her original Grenache comes from the Tierra Alta Vineyard in Ballard Canyon, a steep sloped site banded with limestone, but she wants to work with grapes from other locations as well. Her goal is both to see if she might find something else she likes as much, but also to consider more closely what it is she loves from Tierra Alta fruit. In learning about these differences in wine, she realizes she is also learning about herself. She discovers not only what her own preferences are, but also how she wants to express herself, and what she will or won’t do about how others may receive her and her work.

Magdevski describes Grenache’s character as she sees it. “I really love Grenache,” she tells me. “It has a peasant nature. I love the brightness of the fruit, yet it is super complex, and it can be really elegant. I think of Pinot Noir, and Cabernet as elegant wines, and I like that. But that isn’t why I drink Grenache. I am looking for more complexity and beauty of fruit than elegance.”

Talking through each lot with Magdevski I begin to zero in on the peasant nature she describes. The barrel she likes best right now offers a plush convergence of round fruit integrated with spice and stemy hints. The wine fills while floats in the mouth and tasting it I see pink. It’s texture is more rustic, less candied, and less dense than the other lots.

That plush lift characterizes the wines of her 2011 portfolio too. They are round in the mouth with a core of powder touched fruit. Both the Grenache and Syrah rush with complexity and lightness with an subtle edge of wild funk, while the whites–Viognier and Gewurtztraminer–drink with the warm feel of Grandma’s white tile and wood kitchen–clean, comforting, and familiar. The Gewurtztraminer she started as a tribute to her Grandmother and her family in Macedonia, where the grape is traditional.

With her 2012s, she is playing with not only differing clones and vineyard sites, but also varying techniques. Her whites use a blend of skin contact and straight to press juice that offers dimensionality and a multi-note flavoral echo in the mouth. She will also be bottling both a Syrah and a Syrah rosé again, alongside her beloved Grenache.

In considering what she loves about winemaking, Magdevski tells me it is the dance of going deep into “geeky winemaking talk” about science, the process, the fruit, and the numbers–again a recognition of sharing and learning–while striving to make “a bottle of wine that is approachable and not pretentious.” She reflects again, “I never want to take any of this for granted. This is a gift.” She continues. “The goal is to share this with as many people as possible.”

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Thank you to Sonja Magdevski for sharing with me, and for pushing me too to reflect in conversation. Thank you for taking time to talk with me.

Devoted to the Sta Rita Hills: Tasting wine near the edge of the world

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 8, 2013

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Moving in the Sta Rita Hills

Santa Rosa Road side of Sta Rita Hills; looking across to Sanford & Benedict Vineyard from Mt Carmel Vineyard

Yesterday Matt Dees, winemaker of The Hilt, drove me through the Santa Rosa Road section of the Sta Rita Hills. The appellation inspires in its winemakers a dogged devotion, and two differing kinds of commitment to match two distinct zones.

Looking across the flats of Highway 246 section of Sta Rita Hills, Melville Winery

Along Highway 246 there is a prevalence of diatomaceous soils, that is, to put it simply, sand. The vineyards planted here struggle in wind and lack of natural born water, depending on irrigation in the midst of no ground cover and no rain. Winemakers like Greg Brewer have found a way to devote themselves to the starkness of such conditions, offering wines with a vivid saline and seaweed finish. One of my favorites, the Melville Inox, gives the sense of shooting an oyster with rock salt on top.

Santa Rosa Road instead rolls in a twist of exposed and nestled hills. The canyon and slope sides curling and bowing into varied aspects and angles generating a rich texture and flavor potential, all with high acid commitment. The Santa Rosa Road section of Sta Rita Hills also has sand, but more prevalent loam and clay, with old vineyards still on own root and dry farmed. The vineyards through this zone can readily be considered heritage.

Looking across 1972 planted Mt Eden clones in S&B Vineyard, towards Mt Carmel Vineyard

On the North slope perches Mt Carmel, the beneficiary of an unfinished nunnery that just ran out of money. It’s undone building stands still devoted to God’s timing near the top of the hill. Below grow old vines brought into known quality by the work of Steve Clifton and Greg Brewer for their Brewer-Clifton label. Today the grapes are used instead by wine named for the vineyard, showing the dark fruit, spicy, thick skinned quality of Pinot Noir on this slope.

Now Sashi Moorman and Raj Parr of Sandhi Wines also source from Mt Carmel, finding a ready home for Chardonnay. Though they have made Pinot from the South facing slopes of Santa Rita Road as well, Sashi Moorman expresses a greater interest in making their Pinot from the North-facing side of the road. The North-facing side offers greater sun protection that Pinot Noir needs.

Looking at Sea Smoke Vineyard, beside Mt Carmel, from S&B Vineyard

On this North-facing side, Sanford & Benedict (S&B), planted in 1972 with still about 100 acres of own rooted Pinot Noir and Chardonnay Mt Eden clones, offers steadier paced growth. Matt Dees explains the development of the clusters from this vineyard, “even with heat spikes, these vines take their time. They don’t jump to conclusions. They maintain their acidity. The fruit doesn’t jump. It mosies.”

The Santa Rosa Road area of Sta Rita Hills seems almost comforting against the persistent barrenness of the Highway. Both, however, trigger appreciation. Standing on Mt Carmel with Matt Dees, looking across to Sanford & Benedict, I was swelled with feeling. When you recognize that in the early 70s Richard Sanford planted his vineyard site amidst a completely unknown region it is easy to see his work as inspired.

View from the top, looking into Sta Rita Hills from Pence Ranch

Sta Rita Hills as a whole carries that sense of inspired expression. The region should be respected for its ability to generate impressive whites. Raj Parr calls Sta Rita Hills one of the best regions in the world for white wine. Moorman too agrees that whites as a whole, not just Chardonnay, are brilliant here. Acidity comes naturally thanks to the Hills’ conditions. Coupled with the concentration and layers of flavor found through Santa Rosa Road, or the saline sea air finish of the Highway, the whites are more than compelling.

The region focuses too on Pinot Noir and Syrah, both benefiting from the acidity and long growing season. But where the whites speak with an established albeit young fervor, the reds offer a feeling of quality that is still discovering what can be said. It is the kind of exploration celebrated and encouraged by Matt Kramer in his recent push for Pinot producers to take chances. The work of Chad Melville through Samsara, and Ryan Zotovich through his self-named label, give examples of grounded reds with lift. Comparatively, larger projects like Dierberg, with winemaker Andy Alba, still show that stable verve possible through the region, and new projects too, like Blair Pence’s Pence Wines, offer insight into the lively richness possible with Pinot. The yet to be released Goodland Wines Sta Rita Red (a Pinot named to express the appellation rather than the grape) hits home with its impressively taut line of energy.

In his devotion to the Santa Rosa Road section of Sta Rita Hills, Moorman describes the contrast between the North [S&B] and South [Mt Carmel] facing slopes, “from Mt Carmel you really taste the sun. In S&B you taste the soil.” Tank tasting Sandhi Chardonnays with him it’s easy to agree with his description. Considering barrel samples from the wines of Highway 246 the third note becomes visible. There you taste the ocean.

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Thank you to Sashi Moorman, and John Faulkner for taking the time to meet with me.

Thank you to Matt Dees for spending the morning touring me on the vineyards of Santa Rosa Road. Thank you to Drew Pickering.

Thank you to Greg Brewer, Steve Clifton, Blair Pence, Andy Alba, Jim Dierberg, Meredith Elliot, Lacey Fussell, and Sao Anash.

Escaping Convention: Calibrating to Stark Conditions, a Conversation with Greg Brewer

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 7, 2013

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Thank you to the judges of The Wine Blog Awards 2013 for selecting this post as a finalist for the Best Blog Post of the Year, 2013 award.

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Meeting Greg Brewer

My first step into the vineyard with Greg Brewer I collapse into a puff of sand. The ground is so soft I’ve sunk several inches lower than anticipated and I can’t help but laugh at the surprise.

The Sta Rita Hills are dominated by sand, the entire region previously oceanic bed now full of diatomaceous soils. Diatoms, I learn, are small phytoplankton with cell walls made of silica. As they die they fall to the seafloor and fossilize into sedimentary rock. In the ocean retreating from the Sta Rita Hills, the soils made of these algae were left behind. Now we are walking through their history.

Brewer takes me up to the vines and explains what he appreciates about this vineyard. It is a flat section of land in the midst of a cold, sea blown appellation. The trees lining the front of the winery are taller than the building’s roof, and lean East, a sign of their growing in a persistent inland wind. Common discussion prizes hillside vineyards, and in their proper place they do challenge vines in a desirable way. But Brewer is describing to me the advantages of what Ted Lemon also emphasized, protected vineyards in extreme areas. Brewer adds his own spin to the notion, “it’s like being in the bosom of something. It’s cold outside and warm against the chest.” The vines on these flats, then, are held dear in the midst of otherwise harsh conditions. The sand provides little water or nutrient on its own. The wind pushes against the plants almost continually, and cools what is already a cool climate. With such circumstances the extremity of a slope side is unnecessary for pushing the vines.

The relationship expressed of protection within challenge is the first glimpse of a dynamic I’ll later come to recognize as definitive for Brewer. He loves the subtle complexity exemplified through a delicate circumstance–apparently differing ideas acting in harmony thanks to the right context. The focus on context reveals what seems to me a fundamental value for him, the importance of difference. He comments on this as we look at the winter vines. When it comes to wine “there are so many beautiful approaches,” Brewer tells me. “I like a celebration of difference.”

For Brewer the question of quality wine is not as simple as what your alcohol levels come out at, or if you use new oak. Instead, it’s a matter of a person’s “execution of intent.” That is, new oak or alcohol levels might be a matter of stylistic choice. Within any particular style a winemaker can create quality or not. Brewer turns the attention instead to choice and belief. “If [winemakers] believe in what they do for the right reasons, chances are it will turn out well.” Behind this view is a conception of alignment between intention and action. If a person really means what they do it comes more naturally.

Preparing to Taste Diatom

Two weeks later I’ve returned to Santa Barbara. There are a few people I want to do follow up visits with but it’s Greg Brewer that has stuck in my head. In our first meeting he’d described his winemaking techniques as subtractive in nature. The statement has been echoing for me.

Before meeting with Brewer again I am again researching the Sta Rita Hills and diatoms, the silica based algae. Brewer’s personal label is named for these creatures, an intentional homage to the place from which the wines are grown.

The silica-based ground is of the ocean, now only miles from it. The climate of the appellation is dominated by the ocean as well. Both climate and ground find their origin there in the water. Suddenly I am struck by the intensity of that–in any literal sense the ocean has retreated from the Sta Rita Hills, finding refuge in the deeper places, yet it remains throughout by its vestiges of earth, air, temperature, atmosphere. The region, then, answers a strange riddle–what would it look like for the ocean to retreat and yet remain?

Though they are atypical in their manner of doing so, Diatom wines are a deep representation of the place in which they find providence. It is respect for this oceanic dependence that I believe both characterizes the Sta Rita Hills AVA, and Brewer’s expression of it through his label Diatom.

The next morning I wake up early before my meeting with Brewer and begin eating seaweed.

The History of Diatom

The earliest influences of the Diatom project for Brewer connect to his work with Melville. There he began making an austere, highly focused rendition of Chardonnay called Inox.

In many winemaking traditions the best fruit gets the highest treatment, being given new oak, more aging, a closer consideration of technique in order to be bottled as Reserve wine. Lesser quality fruit, then, would be bottled with less attention to be sold for less. Brewer’s thought though was that in a California climate, where even in a cooler region the vines offer genuine fruit character, the better quality bunch could be left to speak for itself.

In making Inox, then, Brewer keeps the fruit from oak influence, fermenting and aging it instead in stainless steel, and also avoiding malolactic fermentation (ML), a process that in Brewer’s view takes fruit through a secondary stage further from its original form (It isn’t that Brewer is against ML. He uses it elsewhere. He simply doesn’t use it in these more subtractive approaches to Chardonnay). What is left is stark, primary fruit flavor resounding with acidity. The Diatom project carries some family resemblence to Inox.

In the genesis of the Diatom project is a recognition of place. “The landscape is stark. I wanted the wines to be stark.” Connected to that idea of barrenness is Brewer’s view too of the wines architecture. In making Diatom, the goal is to offer “structure found from within, not imposed from without.” The idea is one he compares to sushi. “I like doing something pure and stripped down. With sushi, the fish must stand on its own.” In Brewer’s approach to these wines the idea is to let the fruit stand on its own.

Brewer considers the history of California Chardonnay. Many understand it as a neutral grape, with older winemakers still sometimes calling it a blank canvas. They were able to show their technique intentionally on the fruit. Reflecting on the artistic metaphor, led Brewer to a different insight. What would happen if instead he left the canvas blank?

In this way, Diatom is an attempt to directly experience subtle differences. The art of Udo Noger could be seen as an analogy to Brewer’s wine project, and indeed Brewer himself names Noger as inspiration. Noger focuses on an intersection of light and space to investigate what is possible with something as simple as the color white. The recalibration of awareness offers insight into simplicity. Something otherwise seen as minimal becomes obvious.

In Diatom, Brewer approaches Chardonnay as a parallel to Noger’s method. The wines are fermented slowly and cold for the first months, then warmed only enough to allow fermentation to complete. The process, and aging occur in stainless steel. In such an approach, the wines offer austere presentation with significant structure. The alcohol levels are often high, as is the acidity.

With their focused style, the wines deliver a snapshot of Brewer’s aesthetic of silence and open space. As winemaker, he understands these wines are his particular expression, and names some of the roots of his inspiration in foreign cultures and artists. But standing in the sandy vineyard with him, only a few miles from the ocean, it’s clear his aesthetic is also rooted in the barren places of the California coast. And it’s that conscious intersection in Brewer’s work that fascinates me. He comments, “an important part of site display is allowing the human element to be there.”

Remeeting Greg Brewer

We have gone inside and are tasting Diatom wine. We begin with two from 2011.

The wines are so focused it is hard for me to think words at first. I taste instead impressions. Wind blowing over flat land. Sand. Resonant silence. As flavors unfurl so do feelings. The wines carry emotion. The wines feel at home in silence to me, as if they are focused elsewhere and at ease in solitude. They are structurally lean and energized. The Kazaoto giving flavors of winter forest, pine and menthol opening finally to pink and white grapefruit, followed by a long sandy seaweed finish. All blowing and cool in the mouth. The Miya comes later in winter when the cold is lifting but it is not yet Spring–silent, distant, and focused as well, but wind blowing with a softer voice of white sage and evergreen lifting into pear and hints of beeswax.

We follow our tasting into two from 2006. They are more lush and open, carrying a richness the 2011 does not entertain. Still, to call these wines rich is to mislead, as they may be broader than the 2011s but are still focused and taut on the palate. The wines taste of late summer when we have not yet begun to think of Fall. On the Clos Pepe, citrus oils fall into tall grasses and very light mint. The Huber is slightly hotter with more acidity, carrying dried white herbs alongside dried soils, dried flowers, citrus oils and methol. With these two wines I am grief stricken and honestly feel that pain in my chest. They are a reminder. Summer reaches its zenith only to curl back down to winter.

I turn back to taste again the 2011s and it occurs to me.

Greg Brewer’s work is the answer to a fundamental question. What would happen if we took what we love, what we want to do, seriously and made that love our life?

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Thank you to Greg Brewer for taking the time to meet with me.

Finding Purpose: California Chardonnay at IPOB SF 2013

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 6, 2013

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In Pursuit of Balance SF 2013: Seminar 1: Relevance and Purpose in California Chardonnay

Jon Bonné headed a panel of Chardonnay makers focused on the “Relevance and Purpose” of the state’s expression of the grape. In his opening remarks, Bonné referenced our movement into the third wave of California Chardonnay. As a reaction against the oft criticized Rombauer over-oaked and buttery paradigm, Bonné explains, winemakers developed an interest in the use of stainless steel and its austere coupling against malolactic fermentation. Today, Bonné offers, we also find a terroir driven synthesis that brings together delicacy of flavor with textural pleasure, higher acidity freshness, and lower alcohol heat. The wines represented throughout the event, In Pursuit of Balance, showcase such a style.

The panel discussion included the following winemakers and owners: Gavin Chanin, Chanin Wine Company; Matt Licklider, LIOCO; Rajat Parr, Sandhi Wines; Bab Varner, Varner Wine. Each showed a single recent vintage wine to illustrate their work. Knez Wine was also represented through the tasting portion of the panel.

Expressing Chardonnay’s Site

As Bonné began the panel, we were reminded of the neutral character of the grape itself. That is, Chardonnay does well at transmitting the characteristics of the climate, soil, and overall terroir within which it is grown. Stylistic choices can overwhelm the site specificity possible through the grape too, however. But in listening to the panel discussion, what the third wave of California Chardonnay seems to be expressing is the subtle balance not only of alcohol and acidity, but of site presentation and stylistic technique.

Rajat Parr gave the most direct statement regarding the panel’s thesis question–the Relevance and Purpose in California Chardonnay. “Our goal,” he offered, “should be to make the best wine from where you are. Not the best wine like somewhere else. Represent your own appellation.”

Bob Varner furthered the question on how to accomplish such a goal. Varner clarifies that as a winemaker he regularly asks himself “how do I have the most control doing the least?” Through experience Varner has learned that “the vineyard is going to give me more than I can do in the cellar.”

The point becomes interesting when you consider that even in less manipulative winemaking practices technique is still a determining factor for expressing terroir. Varner addresses this point. “Sites need technique. […] You have to make decisions about what to do and don’t do.” In considering lower intervention approaches to wine, Varner emphasizes that “too much removal [of technique] leads to not making a statement wine. One that doesn’t reflect the vineyard.”

Questions Besides Terroir

Alongside such considerations the winemaker also has to decide what their other goals are in making their wine. Terroir isn’t a simple matter of direct presentation, fruit to wine, there are also considerations of how quickly one wants their wines to be approachable, what texture the winemaker prefers, and how rich he or she is willing to let the flavors become, all of which make contact with the idea of how to express the particular site, that is, of how to cultivate the fruit into wine. As an example, Parr references the use of light fining and filtration on Sandhi wines. Sandhi fines and filters because of how doing so makes the final wines more taut, a stylistic preference that still carries the manifestation of the site’s particular potential.

The Relevance of Clone versus Site

The panel clarifies that when considering site the age of the vines has some relevance early on. That is, in the first 10 to 15 years of a vineyard’s life the wine expression is more about the clone–the characteristics of the particular clone planted really show when the vines are young. In a young vineyard the nuances of the site itself are not very clearly expressed. However, once the vines acclimate to the site, they calm down in a sense. Older than 15 years and the particular characteristics of the vineyard become more important than the clone type. Bob Varner clarifies, “younger vines are more exuberant. But [their fruit is] not as dense or taut on the palate as older vines. Older vines also offer more lift.”

Working with Chardonnay

The sensitivity of Chardonnay gives Gavin Chanin his reason for loving the grape. As he explains, “working with great Chardonnay, or Pinot Noir,” he adds, “needs time to produce. With these grapes time turns into something.” Part of the point Chanin raises is the role technique carries in creating good wine. In discussion Chanin considers that if one wanted to create the strictest rendition of a terroir wine, the winemaker might choose to rack, to bottle, to age the exact same durations every year. In keeping the numbers consistent, the wine drinker, it would seem, could really taste the vintage differences from year to year. But as Chanin explains, “respecting an individual wine means respecting that wine has different needs” from the same vineyards’ fruit of a different vintage, or the fruit from one vineyard versus another.

An audience member asked the panel about the idea of new oak. The Raumbauer panic would seem to steer us away from the use of new barrels. But Matt Licklider clarifies, “new oak is good.” There’s not an absolute for or against its use. “Some sites don’t need it.” Bob Varner responds in agreement. “The trick is finding the cooperage and wood that integrates with the wine. That adds structure, with flavors that integrate rather than cover over.”

***
Thank you to Jon Bonné for facilitating the discussion. Thank you to Gavin Chanin, Matt Licklider, Rajat Parr, and Bob Varner for your insights.

Thank you to Jasmine Hirsch, and to Dan Fredman.

ZAP: Heritage Vineyard Zinfandel Tasting Panel

Hawk Wakawaka

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Feb 5, 2013

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Tasting at ZAP: The Heritage Vineyard Zinfandel Panel

click on comic to enlarge

Zinfandel Advocates and Producers, aka. ZAP, hosted a Heritage Vineyards Panel, sponsored by the Historic Vineyard Society. The goal of the group is to help raise awareness about the incredible quality offered by genuinely older vines in order to encourage their preservation and maintanence, as well as appreciation for their resulting wine. The panel on Friday included tasting with vineyard and vine information. It was organized into four tasting groups of four wines each, separated by region in California–Mendocino, Sonoma, Napa, and Lodi. Each region was represented by an expert winemaker and vineyard scout from that area.

Following are notes on the wines. They were generally organized from lowest to highest alcohol, and overall coolest to hotter regions. It should be noted, however, that there are cooler and warmer zones in each, so for example while Lodi appeared last, portions of Lodi are much cooler than might be expected.

In general, Mendocino offered the prettiest iterations of the wine, with the Sonoma group the most varied (that county is HUGE). Napa wines showed the narrowest range of presentation between wines, but with the most layered flavors throughout. Finally, Lodi offered the most distinctive bunch with images of bear, lamb, and wrestling ferret trombling through my head from so much musk.

Mendocino

Mendocino county zinfandel is characterized by its more condensed growing season with frost often occurring into May, and harvest hitting in the third week of October. The diurnal difference is also significant, with temperatures dropping significantly at night preserving higher acidity levels in the grapes.

Interestingly, much of the zinfandel industry in Mendocino was instigated by plantings established to aid the efforts of World War II. The wine produced left tartaric acid condensation on the insides of the large redwood tanks. The tartaric was then scraped off and used in gunpowder needed to fight the war.

* 2010 Graziano Family of Wines, Kazmet Vineyards

I enjoyed this wine most in the flight. It offered a pretty red floral combined with earthy nose, and a refreshing dance-y palate clean and full of finesse. The presentation was long and juicy, with crunchy berry and light mint touches alongside hints of cocoa. It’s only been in bottle for two weeks so watch for it to really open up.

2009 Golden Winery, Coro Mendocino

Including a mix of Syrah and Petit Sirah, this wine carries more weight than the Graziano, without heaviness. More tannic grip hits the palate as a result. Expect light red fruit undercurrent flowing under a very cocoa and prune driven wine with light menthol on both the nose and palate. The long prune finish, with a bit of weight, has a drying effect also showing forest floor.

* 2011 Carlisle Winery & Vineyards, Du Pratt Vineyards

I appreciated this wine. It offers prettiness and depth. Red and pink floral elements bring the nose into a zippy zippy palate of red flowers and cracked pepper, swirling with porcini mushroom and a dark chalky texture. It is not as heavy as the Golden while offering more weight than the Kazmet.

2010 Claudia Springs Winery, Rhodes Vineyard

Herbal, floral, and vanilla swirl and open into menthol here, uncurling into pine and bark on the palate. Again zippy zippy palate stimulation prickling through with cracked pepper, chocolate, followed by cocoa powder on the finish. The vanilla aspects weigh down the herbal aromatics for me.

**

Thank you to Dennis Patton for his selection of the wines, and discussion of Mendocino Zinfandel.

**

Sonoma

The greatest number of Zinfandel plantings occur in Sonoma. However, the various appellations and regions of Sonoma County are incredibly varied in soil type, temperature range, proximity to water, and elevation, generating a great range between various wines.

Sonoma Valley is predominately alluvial wash coming from the backside of Mt Veeder, with some cooler influence coming up the Bennett Gap from San Pablo Bay. Russian River Valley occurs in three sections differing temperature zones reaching from mountain to ocean. Dry Creek Valley has a high concentration of old vine Zin planted–beautifully gnarled head trained vines that can be viewed on a drive through the area. It is generally considered warmer than Russian River Valley. To the East and North of Dry Creek Valley is Alexander Valley. It is the largest and has the most concentrated plantings of the AVAs in Sonoma.

* 2011 Bedrock Wine Co, Papera Vineyard (Sonoma Valley)

Both the nose and palate offer cocoa and fresh mint with blue and black fruit integrated with spice and cracked pepper. The palate is fresh and juicy, with a clean and focused overall presentation. The oak elements here are integrated into the wine as a whole. I enjoyed this wine.

2008 Ridge, Mazzoni Home Ranch (Alexander Valley)

This is a big wine that fills the entire palate, and comes in full on the nose as well. It carries about 50% Zinfandel with slightly smaller portion of Carignan, and some mixed fruit from a field blend aspect of the vineyard. It is one of the oldest vineyards in the region, planted in the 1890s. This is a well made wine showing good proportions on the elements throughout. Still, it is bigger than I prefer, and has more weight on the palate than I like. This is not a wine I can readily drink. The flavors here include vanilla and menthol integrated with red cherry, prune, and pepper. There is a nice dance of juiciness with a soft tannin grip and light dusty accents throughout.

* 2009 Dashe Cellars, Louvau Vineyard (Dry Creek Valley)

Candied prune and menthol come in alongside light black cherry and blackberry. This wine came in the most closed initially but opened to offer meaty aromatics, pleasing high notes, and a good lift on the palate. I enjoyed this wine and expect it will continue to uncurl in the bottle to offer even more complexity and interest.

2009 Ravenswood, Old Hill Ranch (Sonoma Valley)

An immediate offering of chocolate mint followed by dark fruit and rosemary here. The finish comes in with a chocolate covered prune finish. There is more weight on the palate and in the finish than I prefer on this wine. It will be interesting to taste again with more age. The wine includes some Carignan and Mourvedre.

**

Thank you to Morgan Twain Peterson for selecting the wines and discussing Sonoma County.

**

Napa

Napa County comes in as California’s first AVA. Though it is widely associated with Cabernet now, it’s history is dominated first by Zinfandel. George Yount took cuttings from General Vallejo to plant vines near what is now Yountville (a one mile long party town dominated by tourists. Yee haw!) Petit Sirah also showed up with an important historical presence by the 1960s. Cabernet didn’t begin taking over until the 1970s. The AVA includes 16 sub appellations though it is only 30 miles long and 5 miles wide. It also has a significant diurnal swing throughout the appellation. According to Bob Biale, who moderated the Napa section, the valley also carries over half of the world’s soil types.

2010 Mike and Molly Hendry, R.W. Moore Vineyard (Combsville)

Cocoa and cinnamon layer beside rose petal, red berry, menthol, and dried black cherry. There is light leather, portabello mushroom, and spice throughout this wine. The tannin is soft here giving a smooth, light texture, coming in beside a zippy, juicy acidity. 40% of the plantings are original or very old vine zinfandel field blended with Gamay, Mourvedre, and Petit Sirah.

2010 Robert Biale Vineyards, Aldo’s Vineyard (Oak Knoll)

Sauteed mushrooms, with lanolin, chocolate, black cherry and black berry roll through with black pepper and passionfruit into a chocolate and cracked pepper finish. The tannin here is smooth, with a lightly hot and zippy palate. There is a lot of layer in this wine. 69% of the vines in Aldo’s Vineyard are original or very old. The site is named after Bob Biale’s father, Aldo, who preserved the plantings from the vicious Suburbia louse, a virus-carrying pest we have not yet found cure for.

2009 Chase Cellars, Hayne Vineyard Reserve (St. Helena)

Dried purple flowers, prune and berry, appear with purple fruit, forest floor and floral spice. There is light meat fat here breathing into a prune and cocoa finish. These are smooth tannins. Found in the warmest appellation of Napa, this wine still carries enough acidity for quaffing.

2010 T-Vine, Frediani Vineyard

I did not like this wine. The residual sugar overwhelms other flavors so that it was hard for me to retain more than black cherry with plum pungent jam surprise spread (it was even chunky in the mouth). Working at it I was able to get bacon fat, clove and nutmeg as well, with hints of pastry. This wine was a shocker.

**

Thank you to Bob Biale for selecting the wines and sharing information about Napa Valley.

**

Lodi

An old growing region, Lodi started in the 1860s, with it offering Zinfandel and 40 other varieties by 1883. The region survived through Prohibition sending lots of fruit back to the East Coast where it was made into wine for small family production. The area is dominated by a heavy sand content, keeping phylloxera at bay. As a result, the region hosts a lot of own rooted vines. The largest concentration of historic vineyards per overall acreage occurs in Lodi. It is only just starting to produce small scale local wineries, thus just beginning to show what is possible with Lodi fruit.

* 2010 McCay Cellars, Contention, Train Wreck Vineyard

I liked this wine. Has 5% Carignan. A distinct wild musk with wild mixed berries hits with integrated spice and purple floral notes, wet leather and lanolin. There is some rainstorm hillside mud wrestling happening behind this wine, as well as notes of wolf and lamb musk. My my. The vineyard was originally planted in 1935. In 1954 a train crashed alongside it spilling 100s of thousands of obsidian pieces into the sand of the vineyard. They remain today. Thus the name, Train Wreck Vineyard.

2011 St Amant Winery, Marian’s Vineyard, Mohr-Fry Ranch

Black berry and black cherry are integrated with violet-spice and bear musk on the nose. The palate carries forward with well-integrated vanilla elements, and a wet leather finish. Chaps on a cowboy walking rain-washed ground we get here. That is, the chaps are wet. There is a nice tannic grip without roughness on this wine. Mohr-Fry is the most famous vineyard in Lodi, planted in 1901 by the Mettler Brothers.

* 2010 Turley Wine Cellars, Dogtown Vineyard

Fresh blackberry bramble, sage and mint lighten the nose, bringing blackberry, black plum, and spicy leather chaps (again with the chaps, this time they’re dry but after a long ride through the dusty hillsides at the edge of the region). Clove comes in with a light dust bowl scent. The vineyard was planted in 1944 on own root, in the Northeast of Lodi’s Clement Hills.

2010 Macchia, Outrageous, Noma Ranch

Black fruit, primarily plum, and also cherry, carry wood bark and forest floor into the palate showing fruit stamen spice, floral and dried fruit skin, dried orange zest, light leather, and the musk of wrestling ferrets (I’m not making this up. The ferrets are totally wrestling.) The flavors here are softened, and the tannin smooth.

***
Post-edit: The Historic Vineyard Society was inadvertently named as the Heritage Vineyard Society in the original version of this post.

**
Thank you to Tegan Passalacqua for selecting the wines and coordinating the Lodi discussion.

***

Thank you to Joel Peterson for moderating the panel, and Rebecca Robinson for representing ZAP.

Thank you to Julie Ann Kodmur.

Lagier Meredith: Visiting with Stephen Lagier, and Carole Meredith SCIENTIST LEGEND

California

Hawk Wakawaka

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Jan 31, 2013

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I am going to confess something. I’ve been trying to write this two post series on meeting Stephen Lagier and Carole Meredith for almost a month. There are some people I have such appreciation that the challenge becomes wondering what I could possibly say. Rather than stall any longer, I thought I’d post photos of my first visit with them, and keep working on the write up in the meantime. They really are both enjoyable, remarkable people.

***

Visiting Lagier Meredith, Mt Veeder

The day Stephen and Carole initially met with me was foggy. Standing on the lower porch we are looking East here into Napa Valley. Highway 29 is below hidden in the fog.

The Mt Veeder appelation is unique to the region. It is one of several Mountain appellations within the larger Napa Valley, but Mt Veeder sits the furthest south, overlapping Carneros. As a result, Mt Veeder is also the coolest AVA in the Napa Valley benefiting from the marine influence with fog and cool air moving Northward from San Pablo and San Francisco Bays.

While the other Mountain AVAs rely on more volcanic soil, Mt Veeder hosts primarily sedimentary, former seabed earth. The Lagier Meredith Vineyards grow from sandstone and shale, both of which fracture allowing roots to grow deep and more readily access water.

Carole’s work in grape genetics heralded an understanding of genetic relationships of vines. While she also helped establish worldwide lab partnerships in order to build a genetic map of grape types, her passion was in determining the parentage and relationship between different vines. The first such breakthrough established Cabernet Sauvignon as the child of Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc. Her success in this discovery led to heritage vineyards in France allowing her to use their vine collections to research further. She went on to establish the origins of Syrah, Chardonnay, Gamay, Aligote, Pinot Meunier, and Zinfandel, among others.

Partially in celebration of her work, the Lagier Meredith Vineyards grow Syrah (a good match for the cooler climate, elevation, shallow soils of Mt Veeder), Zinfandel, and Mondeuse (“the crazy uncle” of Syrah).

Stephen and Carole planted Syrah first. After having dinner at their home with Jean Louis Chave, the 15th., a former student of Carole’s, the couple mentioned they were considering planting Syrah on the site. Chave looked out into the Napa Valley and agreed, “Syrah loves a view.”

My favorite part of all this? Meeting the unique character of people. Carole had a cast metal telephone art phase. The handle lifts up. She also made a wall mount version.

The couple’s interests paralleled even before they met. Stephen had a ceramic frog art phase. This one with a cap and cigar, others with other accoutrement, and different postures.

the curious kitty

They make wine, and their own olives from trees planted in the 1880s. They’re delicious (Rachel ate a whole jar of them almost in one sitting).

Syrah was unusual for Napa Valley when Stephen and Carole planted vines on their then brand new vineyard in 1994. At the time the region was planted almost entirely with Cabernet Sauvignon. Lagier Meredith Syrah was also one of the first from the region to be described by the media as showing a more restrained European influence.

Stephen and Carole manage all aspect of the business–vineyard maintenance and planting, winemaking and marketing–themselves, but he is humble about the project at the same time.

When I ask him about the European comparison of their wines he responds, “It is a reflection of this place. That was not our goal. Our goal was to reduce our influence on the wine.”

Carole adds, “we are fortunate. We have a cool site, with shallow soils, that produce focused wines with complexity.”

Stephen continues, “we are just pleased this place makes this wine we enjoy, and people enjoy. It allows us to make a living.” He pauses, “so pleased.”

The couple had their first press in 1996, originally having planted vines for their own appreciation and use. When they tasted what the wine had to offer, however, it far outpaced their own expectations. So, they shared it with friends, who had a similar response. Their first release was in 2000, and was received almost immediately with good critical response, and a quickly loyal mailing list.

the shy kitty

These concert posters are originals from shows Carole attended.

***
Thank you to Carole Meredith and Stephen Lagier for hosting me.

More to follow!

A Winemaking Philosophy: Guest Post by Tyler Thomas, Donelan Wines

Hawk Wakawaka

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Jan 29, 2013

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The following is the second of a two-part series, guest posts written by Tyler Thomas, winemaker of Donelan Wines.

To read the first of Tyler’s guest posts: http://wakawakawinereviews.com/2013/01/28/the-humanness-of-winemaking-faith-hope-and-love-as-the-core-of-life-and-wine-guest-post-by-tyler-thomas-donelan-wines/

***

tasting Donelan Wines, summer 2012

It is a privilege that Wakawaka Wine reviews has invited me to post as a guest. Elaine and I have spoken much of philosophy and approach to winemaking, partly because of the very important role I place on “wine worldview”: i.e. how we think about wine informs actions of the way we end up producing that wine. What follows is somewhat of a personal winemaking philosophical statement that I apply to our efforts at Donelan Family Wines where we make Syrah, Grenache, Roussanne, Chardonnay, and Pinot Noir.

*

While obtaining a B.S. and M.S. in Botany and Plant Molecular Biology, I was fascinated with plant physiology: how a static organism could adapt/interact so well to its environment. Winemaking is a wonderful professional avenue to enjoy the fruits of such interaction in a way that brings pleasure to so many people. In this industry my focus has almost exclusively been with producers who sought to maximize wine quality (and hence, your pleasure) by maximizing our understanding of any particular place and bringing forth that expression with deft work in the cellar. My desire is to produce wines of great and special character consistently and efficiently each vintage.

I’ve learned in my tenure as a winemaker that unique vineyards, great equipment, proper education, and excellent cellar techniques are only part of the story. First and foremost I believe that one must develop quality leadership, a quality team of people, and a quality winery culture to produce peerless wine vintage in and vintage out. My experience in winery upheaval and transition has emphasized the importance of leadership, philosophy, and vision combined with patient communication in order to develop substantive change. We must cultivate wine, but also people.

With an excellent team in place, making great wine vintage after vintage is a result of two places: the vineyard and the mind. While inimitable wine presumes inimitable fruit, the role played by the mental juggling of variables involved from vineyard to glass are less easily delineated. I’ve read once “don’t learn the tricks of the trade, learn the trade.” Knowing how to clean a barrel doesn’t necessarily make me a better winemaker, but knowing the language of winemaking (another way of saying the science and art) and understanding how people handle different challenges might. Deciphering how another individual thinks about wine – their philosophical approach to making a wine, to balance, to quality; understanding these elements from one person or culture can be integrated into handling the fruit from your own region, climate, and vineyards.

This is exactly what I have taken away from each opportunity in the industry. Experiences in the Santa Rita Hills, Sonoma, Napa, New Zealand, and across Europe were paramount to developing my own perspective on wine production. These experiences evolved my mental approach to wine production. Concepts like balance, importance of extraction, emphasis on mouth feel over flavor, the tool of patience, and perhaps most importantly: how wine was esteemed in each culture.

I will always remember having a candid discussion about acid and bubbles with a winemaker in Champagne when a light bulb went off about the greater role of acid in texture and wine let alone great Champagne. That informed my time as an Assistant Winemaker with HdV Wines in Napa and altered the angle of my view of California wines ever since. Who knew the halls of a corporate cafeteria in France could be so informative for a boutique winemaker!

Across cultures the purpose of wine is pleasure. My goal is to make wines that please by their compelling nature. That is you find yourself both hedonistically and intellectually compelled to go back to the wine over and over again. It calls to you, and you answer. Many wines can draw your first glance, but can they sustain your desire?

I find that both cuvees and single vineyard wines can achieve this goal. The hope of any cuvee is to utilize all the parts, all the colors, to paint a picture or present an offering that is greater than any of the individual parts. Vineyard designated wines ought to stand alone as complete wines (complexity, depth, length, structure) but generally offer a certain unique something that is sine qua non. They ought to have a unique, intriguing aroma profile as a result of their place, but also a balanced texture and complexity to deliver both pleasure and distinction.

I believe that the greatest wines (cuvees or single vineyards) are not made but discovered. While many say that great wine starts in the vineyard (and it does), my goal is also to discover and distill what truly makes an impact to the governing components of wine and only do those things (okay, that’s also because I’m a little lazy and don’t want to create extra work for myself!). For example, by segmenting vines as a result of natural variation within even the smallest of sites we can capture only the best of the best in a vineyard. This assists in learning more about small sections of vineyards, and about essential and nonessential parts of the production that influence how a wine tastes from that site.

Perhaps this is disappointing. Perhaps you would prefer a recipe or some other secret to our vineyard and winemaking approach. Well, maybe I make it out to be simpler than it is, but as my old mentor used to say: “don’t forget, it’s just wine.” We look for good people, create good culture, make wines we enjoy, and hope you will esteem them.

I’ll sum it up this way. Just the other day I was telling Joe Donelan that I found a vineyard that would make the best Mourvedre in the state. We could make one acre, 4 barrels, and drink it all ourselves! Wouldn’t that be great! People, passion, pleasure.

The foundation to achieving this is laid on the quality and knowledge of the team corralled. Establishing a quality vision and culture, and uncompromisingly executing the details will in the end produce the most satisfying of all the beverages: transcendent wine.

***

Thank you to Tyler Thomas for his work writing these posts to share here. I am grateful for the opportunity to share his ideas, as conversations with him have consistently proved insightful and engaging. I also admire the quality of his wines.

To read more from Tyler, you can follow the Donelan Wines blog here: http://www.donelanwines.com/blog/

The Humanness of Winemaking: Faith, Hope, and Love as the core of Life and Wine: Guest Post by Tyler Thomas, Donelan Wines

Wine Reflection

Hawk Wakawaka

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Jan 28, 2013

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This summer I had the privilege of meeting winemaker Tyler Thomas. We talked for several hours about the intersections of science and faith, winemaking as art versus craft, as well as philosophy and what it means to be human. It’s a conversation I’ve returned to again and again in mind since. Tyler Thomas is head winemaker at Donelan Wines in Santa Rosa, California, producing high quality Rhone and Burgundy varieties from Sonoma County. Previously, he also served as assistant winemaker alongside Stéphane Vivier at HdV.

After continued conversations with Tyler about minerality and plant health, making Chardonnay, and the 2012 vintage, I asked if he would be willing to write a guest post to share here. I am grateful to share two. The first, is Tyler Thomas’s reflection on faith in winemaking; the second, tomorrow, elucidates his winemaking philosophy.

***

Tyler Thomas (photo courtesy of Donelan Wines)

One of the elements of winemaking I enjoy is how its production employs our humanness. This topic is difficult and very broad so I’ll try to remain on task. We could start by discussing wine’s transcendence. Wine transcends its original material. It points to – no – engages the imbiber into an experience of enjoying flavors other than what would be expected from tasting its original components. Cherry wine tastes like cherries, but grape wine doesn’t taste of grapes. And while I think, just as NYU President John Sexton argues, that baseball implies a larger transcendence and the same could be said of wine, here we’ll leave that windy path for someone else to travel. But there are plenty of other reasons beside wine’s transcendental nature that invoke our human experience, not the least of which is the way it draws our pleasure and gladness of heart.

Wine is incredibly complex yet simple, regal yet rustic, crushed for goodness, real and ethereal (at times), known and mysterious, physical and transformed. Its purpose seems primarily set toward pleasure. For me, wine is analog for life…and Life; and not only in wine’s final state but in its production too. “Analog for life,” you might think, “did he just write that?” Yes! One of the reasons is because my worldview has led me to feel that faith, hope, and love are core elements of life. And in wine production we exhibit elements of faith, hope, and love; and we do so frequently. I’d like to examine how wine can help one gain an understanding of the faith elements of life. To do this I’ll presume that faith, hope, and love are indeed integral to our humanness. I’ll also assume winemakers care about wine, and just as we live life as if our decisions have meaning, we interact with our grapes with a similar passion and verve for their meaningful outcome: yummy vino.

Certainly faith has strong religious connotations. So much so that many people consider the word faith synonymous with the qualifier blind faith. Perhaps some have already stopped reading as a result! I like this definition: a confident belief in the truth, value, or trustworthiness of a person, idea, or thing. Do we employ faith when definitive explanations fail us and quality and artisan greatness beckon us? Not blind faith, blind to historical experience and science, but real faith that incorporates experience and science.

For a winemaker like me the scientific knowledge we’ve gained over time is critical in that it gives us a confident trust in a specific cellar or vineyard practice. However there is also an interesting narrative that leads many to refer to winegrowing as art, and us as artists. Empirical knowledge provides confident trust, but there are also quite a few creative gut calls that I believe require faith, or the confidence in knowledge beyond ourselves. Winemakers don’t often admit this but – here’s the news flash – we don’t know everything about producing inimitable wine, yet we hope our decisions have tremendous importance.

It’s true! While we may not know things exhaustively, we can still “know” even amidst the mystery. We strive to obtain more knowledge about winegrowing so we can use it to optimize our viticulture and enology and ensure we make the best wine possible each vintage. But without a complete road map to how this flavor in that concentration responds to an 83 degree (not 86!) ferment with 3 punch downs a day and then bounces into another compound to produce a given sensory effect…you can see it gets complicated. Without knowing all that definitively, producers often hope in their intuition and then examine the result asking: “do I like this?” This often leads wine producers to rely more on faith developed over time. Or can I say we employ a confident trust in the truth of a particular practice to give us the desired result?

OK skeptics call it intuition mixed with science if the word faith sends shivers down your spine and your eyes rolling. But if you have an aversion to a word because it conjures too much religious context (which would be a guilt by association fallacy), I encourage you to take what you know from your production techniques and reexamine what it means to employ faith. Can we admit we make decisions without full knowledge of how our desired outcome is achieved? Can we admit that we deeply hope those decisions have meaning? “No Tyler,” you might say, “you are talking about intuition.” Fair enough. I admit it is difficult to separate faith from intuition in the discussion of wine. But I would maintain that there is something about the passion with which we pour ourselves into the process, something more personal and emotive about it, some part of our sincere desire for this decision to be right and true that takes these decisions beyond mere intuition. Intuition is visceral and doesn’t involve the same hope. Intuition is not as supremely pleased when right or devastated when wrong. If we were to consult the Bible (don’t hate me for it!), it offers an alternative definition of faith: the assurance of things hoped for, the convictions of things not seen. Do we not often feel assured in the hope we have that the decisions we make improve our wines?

When we are enjoying a wine 5 years removed from its production and pat ourselves on the back for handling a challenging situation for which we had yet to have a reference and glow in the pleasure of the sips. When we do that, do we simply say “nice gut call”? Isn’t there something more? More of an expectation, more hope, more risk, more reward, more meaning?

Clearly my presumption is that faith and hope are core human elements. Perhaps you disagree. But if you grant me that presumption I think it difficult to deny that winemaking employs elements of our humanness and this should be recognized and embraced. The challenge is to distill what is really true, what really worked, from an anecdote associated with success. How do we wade through knowledge and embrace the mystery? Is faith, the confident trust in the trust worthiness of a practice the answer? The goal of any lifelong pursuer of peerless wine should be to find good answers. And this takes time, effort, and…a little faith. I submit that those who can embrace the science and the mystery will have the greatest opportunity to make the best wine. Those who love and understand empirical knowledge and belief have – I believe – the best chance to discover something great and be a part of producing an inimitable wine. It requires faith in certain actions that transcend your current understanding of the winemaking world to provide meaning to your final goal: a wine that produces a glad heart.

***

Thank you to Tyler Thomas.

To read more about Tyler’s work with Donelan Wines: http://senelwine.com/wine-interviews/tyler-thomas-of-donelan-wines/

Donelan Wine Website: http://www.donelanwines.com/index2.html

Tomorrow will host another guest post by Tyler Thomas on his winemaking philosophy.

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