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Weekend in Turley, With a Dash Of Carlisle and Hardy
Many moons ago, my friend Henry and I discovered Turley wines. We were at a restaurant in Manhattan with our wives, either before or after the Broadway show, and on the wine list, Turley Zinfandel (either Juvenile or Old Vines) was one of the reasonably priced wines, so that was the wine we ordered. I don’t remember if I heard about Turley before (maybe), but tasting that wine was a pivotal moment – we fell in love with Turley wines.
Turley Wine Cellars was founded in Napa Valley by emergency room physician, Larry Turley in 1993, and went on to become one of the most prominent Zinfandel producers in the US. Turley produces about 50 different wines from about 50 different vineyards, most of them organically farmed, from all around California. Many of those vineyards date back to the late 1800s. While Turley might be best known for its Zinfandel and Petitte Sirah, they also produce a number of white wines, a number of other reds, and even Cabernet Sauvignon, first produced in 2010, and eloquently called The Label (Larry Turley’s famous saying was that Cabernet drinkers drink “the label”, hence the name – I had my own share of troubles with this wine).
Turley wines are hard to get in the store, and if you really would like to enjoy them at will, you need to be on the Turley mailing list. Turley was one of the very first mailing lists I managed to get on more than 10 years ago, and I had been a happy customer ever since. My friend Henry finally got his first allocation about two years back.
A place on the mailing list still doesn’t guarantee you access to each and every wine Turley makes, and their list operates on a “first come, first serve” basis – I missed quite a few wines that were included in my offering, but disappeared much sooner than I could make up my mind.
Last Saturday, Henry was coming over for dinner, so I had to make it a Turley evening.
Turley makes only two white wines – Sauvignon Blanc and a blend called White Coat. The wine we opened was the 2019 Turley Estate Sauvignon Blanc Turley Estate Napa Valley (13.4% ABV). It is interesting that Sauvignon Blanc was one of the original wines produced back in 1993. Sauvignon Blanc plantings at Turles Estate were replaced with Zinfandel, but then Sauvignon Blanc was planted again on a small section of the dry-farmed, certified organic vineyard. The wine was fermented using natural yeast and it was bottled after 6 months in 100% French, used oak barrels. The wine was an absolute delight, showing beautiful whitestone fruit, perfectly present, perfectly elegant, with fruit and acidity singing in complete balance.
I had a little bit left in the bottle after that evening, and on Sunday I was able to please the most discerning palate in our household – my mother-in-law. She came over for Mother’s Day on Sunday and wanted to drink the white wine. When it comes to wine, she is completely unpredictable, and I always try to pour her wine without showing the bottle – she has lots of preconceived notions about wines and the regions, so I’m always trying to make sure she will just try the wine first, and then I can tell her where it is from. To my delight, she liked the wine, and even when I told her the wine was from California, she still liked it – a serious achievement in this household.
Our next wine was 2021 Turley Zinfandel Rosé California (12% ABV). This wine sometimes is called White Zinfandel, but only to poke fun at the uninitiated (and the bottle is adorned with the white label). This wine is impossible to score – you literally have to press “buy” as soon as your summer offering arrives. The wine is fermented in stainless steel and aged in used French barriques. It is lip-smacking, it speaks cranberries and strawberries, it is very Provençal in its presentation, but Californian in its soul.
And then there was Tecolote – 2018 Turley Tecolote Paso Robles Red Wine (15.7% ABV). This wine is rarer than rare, as you need to know it exists, to begin with. I got it once through some special holiday offer, but it is never included into the standard seasonal offerings. This wine is typically only available in the tasting room, but being a mailing list member has some advantages – I asked if I can get a few bottles, and they arrived just in time for us to enjoy. This wine is a Spanish-inspired blend of 60% of Grenache and 40% Carignane, coming from the specific block in Pesenti Vineyard, planted in the 1920s. Tecolote means “owl” in Spanish, and this is how the vineyard block is also called. The wine offered layers of lip-smacking black cherries, kitchen spices and sweet tobacco. A perfect balance of textual presence, fruit and acidity made this wine disappear in no time…
Next, let me step away from the wine for a bit – but not from the grapes. I rarely talk about cognac on these pages, but then I have an experience to share.
On an average day, I’m a scotch drinker. But of course, I would never refuse a sip of a good cognac. The keyword is “good” – nowadays, it is difficult to find a good-tasting cognac at a reasonable price in the US. However, my recent cognac tasting with my school friend led me to the discovery of Cognac Expert. Subsequently, I got a recommendation from Cognac Expert for the cognac I now enjoy immensely – without any need to break the bank – Hardy Legend 1863 Cognac. This cognac was produced by the Cognac House of Hardy, to commemorate the founding of the Hardy house back in – yes, you guessed it – 1863. This cognac is a blend of spirits made from the grapes coming from Borderies and Petite Champagne growing areas, aged from 2 to 12 years and finished in classic Limousine oak. From the first enticing smell to the long-lasting, coffee-loaded finish, this cognac offers the ultimate pleasure of balance of fruit, spices, and acidity. And at $40, this might be the best QPR cognac out there today.
Last but not least – 2015 Carlisle Mourvedre Bedrock Vineyard Sonoma Valley (14.9% ABV), which I opened on Sunday. Carlisle is another one of my favorite producers, specializing in Zinfandel, Syrah, and Petite Sirah – and some other grapes. The fruit for this wine came from the 130+ years old vineyard, planted in 1888. The wine was aged in French oak, 20% new. It is interesting that stylistically, this wine was similar to Turley Tecolote – succulent tart cherries on the nose and the palate, a touch of eucalyptus, refreshing acidity, perfect balance. This was an excellent wine to finish the weekend right.
Here you are, my friends – my weekend wine story. If you can find any of the wines mentioned in this post you should definitely look for them. And if you like cognac, this Hardy 1863 Legend is hard to beat. And you know where to find it.
Nevermind. I should have never told you that.
Until the next time – cheers!
American Pleasures #8: Flora Springs, Napa Valley
Wine should give you pleasure – there is no point in drinking the wine if it does not. Lately, I have had a number of samples of American wines that were delicious standouts – one after another, making me even wonder if someone cursed my palate. I enjoyed all those wines so much that I decided to designate a new series to them – the American Pleasures.
This very blog was born out of a desire to share with the world the excitement that a glass of wine can bring. To share an appreciation of a well-crafted glass of fermented grape juice that can inspire great paintings, great poetry, and great conversations.
Sometimes, it is not very easy to find the right words to share that excitement. Yes, there is a great arsenal of wine technical terms to describe body, aroma, bouquet, finish – but those words do a very poor job of conveying emotions. Yes, they describe wine, possibly correctly but subjectively (you say it is a blackberry, and I say it is black cherry) and possibly sufficiently to give another wine geek or professional an idea of how the wine might taste. But when one whiff from the glass literally stops you in your tracks, whether the aroma contains raspberries, black currant, or the hair of the wet dog is really irrelevant. What is important is that wine blew your mind and delivered an ultimate pleasure, which you can’t resist but share with the world.
Everyone derives wine pleasure on their own. For me, smell (aroma) and taste (bouquet) are two distinctly different categories. I had wines that had a magnificent aroma, and an underwhelming bouquet. I had wines where the aroma was either absent or borderline terrible, and the bouquet was magnificent. Of course, many have both. Taking about deriving the wine pleasure, mine definitely starts with the nose, the aroma. I’ve had wines that I didn’t start drinking for a good few minutes, just inhaling the aroma exuding from the glass. I can’t tell you why and how this works with the aromatics of some of the wines being so captivating – simply sharing my perspective here.
This was a long introduction to the gist of this post – two wines of Flora Spring from Napa Valley in California that I had an opportunity to taste lately.
From the moment I heard the name Flora Springs for the first time, there was something subconsciously attractive in that name – I have no idea why and how. But ever since the first encounter, I always expect magic while tasting Flora Springs wines.
Flora Springs Winery was founded in 1978 by Flora and Jerry Komes in Napa Valley, rooted deeply in the rich history of the US wine industry’s ups and downs, going from 763 wineries in California to only 40 surviving Prohibition. Name Flora in combination with the natural springs running through the property helped to define the winery’s name – Flora Springs. From the moment the winery was founded, it was truly a family affair, all built and developed by Jerry and Flora, their kids, grandkids and their families – you can learn all of it on Flora Springs’ website – and it is well worth a few minutes of your time.
The line of wines Flora Springs produces is something you would expect from the winery in Napa Valley – Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and a few others. Yet the two wines which prompted this post belong to the Flagship category – the white blend called Soliloquy and the red Bordeaux blend called Trilogy.
I tried Soliloquy for the first time 13 years ago – no, I don’t have such an amazing memory, I simply have my notes – in this very blog. The wine I tried back then was Sauvignon Blanc from Soliloquy Vineyard. Actually, Soliloquy Sauvignon Blanc is identified as a Sauvignon Blanc clone, certified by the UC Davis to be unique to Flora Springs, so I found that wine to add a unique grape to my collection (I actually added two, as that wine was a blend of Sauvignon Blanc Soliloquy and Sauvignon Musqué). My next encounter was about a year later when I was blown away by the 11 years old Soliloquy bottling.
It is worth noting that in the 1990s, the Soliloquy vines became nearly extinct due to the disease. The winery spent the next 8 years re-growing the Soliloquy vines first in the lab and then in the nursery before the plantings were restored in the vineyard.
2021 Flora Springs Soliloquy Napa Valley (14.2% ABV, SRP $60, 73% Sauvignon Blanc, 12% Chardonnay, 15% Malvasia, 7 months in French oak barrels), the wine which I had, is still made primarily from Soliloquy Sauvignon Blanc with the addition of Chardonnay and Malvasia. The wine offered beautiful bright aromatics, with the whitestone fruit and a distant hint of honey. The palate was full of energy, uplifting, showing more of the white stone fruit, Meyer lemon, crisp acidity, and overall perfect balance. A perfect example of the capabilities of the Napa Valley white.
Not to be overdone, my second wine was 2019 Flora Springs Trilogy Napa Valley (14.2% ABV, SRP $85, 75% Cabernet Sauvignon, 10% Petit Verdot, 8% Cabernet Franc, 7% Malbec, 18 months in French (80%) and American (20%) oak barrels). Trilogy wine was originally produced for the first time in 1984 (thus 2019 is the 35th vintage of the wine), with the name being a nod to the three main Bordeaux varieties comprising the blend.
This wine was truly a show-stopper. On the first whiff, the world slowed down. There was just me and the glass. Pure, delicious black currant, eucalyptus, currant leaves. Round, and around, and around. I few minutes later, I developed the courage to take a sip. To my delight, the palate delivered as much excitement as the nose. Polished, layered, seductive, Bordeaux-style textbook profile, black currants, well-integrated tannins, perfect structure, powerful but perfectly balanced. You really don’t expect the wine like that to be a pop’n’pour wine, and yet it was, in my glass. Absolutely delightful.
There you are, my friends. Another case of delicious American wines, delivering lots and lots of pleasure. These wines are not really everyday sippers but are well worth looking for to brighten up any special occasion.
I have more American pleasures to share, so stay tuned…
Daily Glass: Monday Night Wine
Monday night. The first working day of the week is over. Or it might not be over, who knows. But it is Monday, and the week is just starting. Is there a wine more suitable for Monday than any other day of the week?
Friday night is easy. Friday always means fun and celebration. Friday is already playful, so unless you have serious dinner plans aligned, Friday night wine might be even a cocktail for all I can tell.
I guess Saturday is asking for a serious wine, no matter what. It’s the middle of the weekend which is always special. Thursday… well, I don’t know about Thursday, let’s get back to Monday.
So how do we select the wine for Monday night? Most likely, you are at home. Most likely, it is only you and your spouse drinking. Most likely, you are not in a hurry. Most likely, you can take your time and enjoy that glass for as long as you want. Considering all of these “most likely” circumstances, let’s settle on the thought-provoking wine. The wine which shows its beauty slowly, sniff by sniff, sip by sip.
Can you think of a wine that would match this description?
While you think about it, I will lead by example and offer to talk about my Monday wine.
2019 Turley Bechtold Vineyard Cinsault Lodi (12.4% ABV). Wine from one of my favorite producers – Turley. Wine from one of my favorite wine regions in California (and not only in California) – Lodi.
Lodi flies under the radar for a lot of wine lovers. Everybody knows Napa and Sonoma. Californian Pinot Noir aficionados probably know Santa Barbara County. Meanwhile, Lodi is where Robert Mondavi went to high school and where his father run the grape-packing business. Lodi is the single largest AVA in North America, and Lodi is where Napa winemakers go to get their grapes. Maybe most importantly, Lodi is home to a number of old, continuously producing vineyards. Of course, everyone likes to lay a claim to the “oldest vineyard” here and there – however, Bechtold vineyard in Lodi was planted in 1886, and oldest or not, 136 years of continuously producing fruit deserves the utmost respect.
Lodi might be best known for its old vines Zinfandels, but our Monday wine tonight is made out of Cinsault, a grape typically used in Rhône and Provence. Cinsault wines typically offer a fruity and floral profile with some pungent undertones.
2019 Turley Cinsault was made using whole cluster fermentation with natural yeast and aged for about 7 months in used French oak barrels. The result was the wine that delivered that thought-provoking Monday night experience we were talking about.
On the nose, the wine offered fresh berries and a hint of the forest floor. On the palate, there was a delicate interplay of raspberries, sour cherries, tartness, and acidity, all packaged together delicately but firmly, and finishing off with sour cherries and cherry pits, long-lasting and offering an opportunity to enjoy a quiet moment. (Drinkability: 8/8+)
That’s how my Monday night wine was (delicious!). How was yours?
Pure Pleasure, And How To Express It
Does this glass give you pleasure?
You take a sip of wine. The wine is sublime. It is beautiful. It is complex. The wine solicits emotion – it makes you happy. It makes you moan quietly inside your head, you might extort an “OMG” or a “Wow”, and after a pause, you take another sip. You are not in a hurry. You want to extend this pleasure for as long as possible.
Wine is art. Wine doesn’t leave you indifferent. Wine solicits emotion.
Painting is art. Painting doesn’t leave you indifferent. Painting solicits emotion.
Music is art. Music doesn’t leave you indifferent. Music solicits emotion.
We can consider wine to be a form of art, the same as painting, music, poetry, architecture, and many other human creations which invite an emotional reaction. Do you know what makes wine a unique form of art? Your utter desire to share it.
You can quietly stare at a beautiful painting for a long time, slowly uncovering little details and being in the moment. Even if you stand next to someone else looking at the same painting, 99 out of 100 you are simply focused on your own personal moment.
When listening to the music, even if you are in the concert hall surrounded by thousands, the music is being played only for you and this is how you want to keep it. You can buy a recording and listen to it 100 times. Just by yourself, and you are happy about it.
Have you seen an oenophile get excited about wine? The excited oenophile grabs the total stranger by the sleeve, shoves the glass into their face and says “here, here, you must try this!!!” It is very important for an oenophile to be able to share the joy of the experience with others. There is an ultimate pleasure in sharing your excitement with others, as wine is an art that needs to be shared.
Sharing pleasure is easy in person. Have you tasted magnificent, life-altering wines in the group? If you had, you probably noticed the collective “ohh”, rolling the eyes, unprompted nodding, maybe a muttered “oh my god”, and then silence. The silence of the greatness of the moment, slowly settling in.
This in-person sharing of the pleasure is simple, and kind of just happens on its own. The real challenge comes when you decide to share that ultimate pleasure with the rest of the world.
So how can one express pure pleasure?
A typical way to describe the wine is via so-called tasting notes. Such tasting notes are often called “technical notes” as they usually describe the wine in terms of appearance, aroma, bouquet, and finish – using analogies such as “brickish color”, “smell of mushrooms”, or “taste of dark cherries”. The wine is described in the terms which the wine drinker is supposed to relate to – and it is a great review if you can relate to all of the terms used without trying to figure out what is Cascarilla and how it actually smells, or how Jabuticaba tastes like. What is usually not found in the tasting notes is the emotion – how this wine might make you feel; will you scream with joy when you will take a sip? Yes, I get it. Even the aromas and flavors are subjective. The emotion which you will experience while drinking the wine is yours and yours only – the person next to you might not experience the same enlightenment – and nevertheless, even the hope for greatness is worth sharing.
Can wine pleasure be expressed in the words by professional wine critics? You be the judge of it. Here is the collection of tatsing notes for the 1966 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti La Tâche Grand Cru. At this link, you will find the reviews from Robert Parker, Jancis Robinson, John Gilman, and others. Here is the best excerpt in my opinion. John Gilman: “La Tâche ‘66 is deep, full and opulent on the palate, with a grandiose delivery of thick, perfumed fruit, excellent balance, plenty of power, great focus and finesse, and an incredibly long, softly-tannic and astoundingly complex finish.” This might be the best description out of the six present, but does it convey the emotion?
Does this wine give you pleasure?
A few days ago, I had the pleasure of drinking two wines from the 1997 vintage (1997 is a special year for our family). These two wines really prompted this post. First, I opened the 1997 Château Haut-Piquat Lussac Saint-Émilion (12.5% ABV, 80% Merlot, 15% Cabernet Sauvignon, 5% Cabernet Franc). The wine was somewhat of a recent find at the Wine Exchange – after getting an email offer to buy 1997 Bordeaux for $19.99, I had no option but to get a few bottles. I was happy to see the cork coming out in its entirety with no issues. I was ready with the decanter, but the wine in the glass was quite approachable. After the initial grippy tannins dissipated in 20-30 minutes, what was left in the glass was an absolutely sublime beauty. You see, this is where the challenge lies. Here is the technical description from the Wine Exchange: “a wine that still possesses a youthful charm as there is something to be said for ex-chateau. A beautiful plum/garnet color with very little lightening for its age. This 1997 is full to medium-bodied, showing lots of forest floor, roasted herbs, cedar, tobacco, black cherry, blackcurrant, and new saddle leather. It is opulent and is just entering its plateau of full maturity. The tannins are soft and subtle with an elegant seamless finish. ”
The description is perfectly fine, but it doesn’t help me to express my emotion. The mind singing with every sip. Pure joy in each and every sip. Enough pleasure in every sip to have the nerve enough to tell my wife, who was enjoying the wine with me “this is almost as good as sex”. A personal perspective for sure, but yes, this was the wine.
I didn’t have many expectations for 1997 Chateau Montelena Saint Vincent Red Wine Napa Valley (13.5% ABV, blend of Zinfandel, Primitivo, Sangiovese). Chateau Montelena is absolutely legendary with its role in the Judgement of Paris, especially if you had an opportunity to see the movie Bottle Shock. But Saint Vincent is an eclectic blend, produced only for 5 years from 1995 till 1999, and it is not given that this type of wine can age for 25 years. While very different from the previous Bordeaux in its profile of cherries, eucalyptus, and herbs, it had such a lip-smacking, savory and satisfying bouquet, that every sip was demanding to be followed by another sip.
Do you want a second glass?
I have no idea how to convey the pure pleasure the wine can bring. Maybe emotion is the key. There are lots of good wines out there. The wines you are happy to drink any day every day. Maybe it is the excitement that needs to be measured. Or maybe this is simply in the unyielding desire to share this pleasure with the world. The act of telling the world how amazing the wine was, and hoping that everybody will see it that way too.
Let’s share our little joys with one another. And if you know how to convey this pure wine pleasure, please let me in on that secret.
Making The Same Mistakes
Are we humans prone to repeat ourselves all the time? Good and bad – first we repeat what was done again and again, then wonder why we achieve exactly the same result as before. There is nothing wrong with repeating the good things, except that we might be limiting ourselves – think about bench-pressing 150 lb all the time, without ever trying to increase the weight. That’s a good weight to press, of course, but you need to increase the weight if you want your muscles to grow.
The process of repeating the bad things is far more peculiar. We know that something doesn’t work. We know that we did something in the past and it painfully didn’t work. Should we learn? Should the brain have a mental capacity to remember the bad result of the past and then simply remember not to repeat it? You think? This is so obvious, and yet unattainable at the same time. Why? Really, why?
Case in point. My business trip took me to Anaheim in California. Going to Anaheim, people who travel occasionally would fly to LAX (Los Angeles airport), and then have quite an expensive (and potentially very long) taxi ride to get to Anaheim. People who travel know that the closest airport to Anaheim is John Wayne, a.k.a. Orange County a.k.a. Santa Ana airport. As I belong to the second group (I generally travel for business), I took an early morning flight from Newark, NJ to John Wayne airport, arriving even faster than anticipated and enjoying the easy trip.
When traveling inside the US, ideally you want to take the early flight – outside of mechanical and horrible weather issues, you stand the best chance to arrive at your destination on time and in a happy state of mind. As the day progresses, travel becomes more chaotic, as flight schedules start shifting, and every slight delay aggregates to bigger and bigger ones. See, I know my flying rules. And what I said is 10 times true for the most overloaded (and badly run) airports in the country – Newark, Washington Dulles, Houston, Boston are all stand out in this category – by the end of the day, Newark would typically aggregate about 2 to 3 hours delay – and this is in the best weather throughout the country, God forbid it rains somewhere.
See, I know my traveling stuff, right? Do you think this knowledge helped me? Yep. Of course, you figured out the answer already. No, it did not. Instead of taking 6:30 AM out of John Wayne airport to fly back to Newark, I decided to fly at 12:30. Would you expect me to apply my knowledge? Of course, but I didn’t not. After arriving at the airport about two hours prior to my on-time departure, I spent the next 4 and a half hours (that includes 2.5 hours of an actual delay) literally swearing at myself, at United, at Newark, and back to myself. What’s even worse, I managed to repeat yet another old mistake again.
Insanity – repeating the same thing over and over again, every time expecting a different result
If you like wine, and if you ever traveled through Austin, Portland, San Francisco (and many other) airports, I’m sure you noticed restaurants/bars called Vino Volo. There are more than 50 Vino Volo locations around the country. Everything in Vino Volo revolves around wine. Every restaurant has a great selection of wines by the glass and wines to buy by the bottle – as they are located past security, you can buy a bottle of wine to bring to your destination if you are so inclined.
However, my main attraction at Vino Volo is wine tasting flights. At any given moment, Vino Volo offers 6-8 different tasting flights, red, white, Rosé, each flight typically consisting of 3 wines. Each flight is accompanied by detailed tasting notes. Very often you can find a selection of local wines offered as part of the flights – Oregon wines in Portland, Texas wines in Austin, and so on. When I have time, I never pass on an opportunity to visit a Vino Volo store and taste some new wines.
This brings us back to the subject of repeated mistakes. I know full well that young and expensive California Cabernet Sauvignon wines are undrinkable, 9 out of 10. I generally enjoy Vino Volo flights, with one memorable exception being Californian Bordeaux blend Overture, the second label of Opus, which I didn’t enjoy at all. And now, while at the John Wayne airport, I chose the flight of 3 high-end but young California Cabernet Sauvignon wines, instead of taking one of the other 7 or so. Why? Was a driven by the bad mood due to the flight already being delayed? Was there a hidden, subconscious desire to exacerbate the pain? I don’t know. But this was the flight I ordered. And it successfully exacerbated my pain – which you can see in these tasting notes:
2019 Faust Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley ($83)
Black currant, cherries, eucalyptus
Gripping tannins, green notes, black currants, tart finish.
Not enjoyable now.
2018 Vineyard 29 CRU Cabernet Sauvignon St. Helena ($84)
Cherries, dust
A bit more balanced than the previous wine, still weaved on the core of green notes, but definitely more approachable and enjoyable than the previous wine. Glimpses of greatness. Maybe decanting for an hour would make a miraculous change.
7+
2018 Grgich Hills Cabernet Sauvignon Estate Napa Valley ($82)
Distant hint of black currants and nutmeg
Tart, green, fruit is hiding. Almost flat in terms of soliciting an emotion.
Why do we do these bad things to ourselves? This question is half rhetorical, half actual. If you know the answer – or have a story to tell – please, I’m all ears.
Sangiovese Games and Power of Words
Okay, folks, this might be the scariest post I have ever written. This might lead to unsubscribes, unfollows, ostracism, and public shaming. Well, it is what it is.
Here it comes, my confession.
I don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like.
Here, I said it. You heard me right, and I can repeat. I do not know how Sangiovese tastes like.
Still here? Okay, then I would like to ask for a chance to explain.
I know how Cabernet Sauvignon tastes like. Whether it is produced in Bordeaux, California, Australia or Tuscany, I still expect to find cassis, maybe eucalyptus, maybe mint, maybe bell peppers.
I know how Pinot Noir tastes like. No matter whether it comes from Burgundy, South Africa, Oregon, New Zealand, or California, I still expect to find cherries, maybe plums, maybe violets, maybe some smoke.
I can continue – I know how Chardonnay tastes like (from anywhere), I know how Riesling tastes like (from anywhere), I know how Sauvignon Blanc tastes like (from anywhere). I still don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like.
While we are talking grapes, we are also talking about the power of words. As soon as we hear Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc, we have an instant mental image, set our expectations, and the first sip of wine is judged against that mental image. Of course, we make regional adjustments – Pinot Noir from Oregon might offer dark chocolate, espresso, and mocha in addition to the cherries, but cherries will be there. Bordeaux (okay, it is usually a blend, so this might be a bad example) is expected to be leaner that’s California Cab, but it will still show that cassis core. And I still have no clue how Sangiovese should taste like.
I know how Brunello tastes. It is 100% Sangiovese, but it has its own unique taste profile with layers of tart cherries and cherry pits framed by oak notes and firm tannins. I know how Vino Nobile de Montepulciano tastes. It is also 100% Sangiovese, with tart cherries usually weaved around a core of acidity. I know how Chianti typically tastes. It has to be at least 80% Sangiovese, plus other grapes, and it will have the cherries usually surrounded by leather and tobacco.
Brunello, Vino Nobile, Chianti are renditions of Sangiovese, but they are references only to themselves. When I hear any of these names, I know what to expect. But I still don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like.
I don’t know if you ever had a chance to experience Shafer Firebreak. This wine used to be made from California Sangiovese (92%) with the addition of Cabernet Sauvignon (8%), the percentages are representative of the last vintage which was in 2003 (Sangiovese plantings were removed after that). This wine had nothing in common with any of the Italian Sangiovese renditions, but instead had a smoke, espresso, and powerful dark fruit. A very memorable rendition of Sangiovese – but not referenceable.
You might be annoyed at this point by me constantly repeating “I don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like” and wondering where I might be going with that. So this post was triggered by a few events. Last year, I got a few samples of Sangiovese from Castello di Amorosa. When I tasted them, they were reminiscent of Chianti, and I even had to open a bottle of Cecchi Chianti, which is an outstanding producer making Sangiovese wines with exemplary regional expressions, to compare. I also tasted a bottle of California Sangiovese which had only a name of Sangiovese, but really tasted more like a fruit compote mixed with a fruit cake. As the end result I realized that I have no idea how Sangiovese actually should taste like – and here I am, pondering at the subject with you, my dear reader (I hope someone is still reading this, eh?)
So let me take you a bit further with a few of the tasting notes and references.
First, I have to say that I probably found what can be considered a reference Sangiovese. Two years ago I had an opportunity to taste a range of wines from Cecchi, and one of the wines was called Sangiovese Toscana IGT. It was not Chianti of any kind, it was pretty much an unadulterated rendition of a pure Sangiovese from the motherland, from Tuscany, which was not even aged in oak, only 2 months in the bottle. Here are the notes:
2018 Cecchi Sangiovese Toscana IGP (13% ABV, $10)
Dark ruby
Cherries, coriander, sage
Light, bright, fresh cherries, crisp acidity, sweet basil, refreshing.
8+, can be perfect even on a summer day, but I can’t complain on a winter day either. Unique and different.
The wine was absolutely spectacular in its pristine beauty and an absolute steal for the money. Ever since I tasted this wine it became my reference for how pure Sangiovese might take like.
Now, the peculiar California Sangiovese I mentioned before was the 2017 Seghesio Venom. 100% Sangiovese from Rattlesnake Hill in Alexander Valley, 14.9% ABV, $55. Seghesio is a Zinfandel specialist, and they are good at that. If this wine would be called Zinfandel, I would have no issue with it. But under Sangiovese name, it makes me only wonder what possessed Seghesio to make a wine like that. A fruit compote with a bit of a structure doesn’t equate to Sangiovese in any shape and form. And at the price, if you just want to drink a California wine, it might be fine, but if you are looking for Sangiovese, just look elsewhere.
Well, you don’t need to look too far. Castello di Amorosa in Napa Valley is really focusing on bringing their Italian heritage to wines they craft in California. Yesterday I talked about their range of Pinot Noir wines, which was excellent. Their California Sangiovese can probably be called a glorious success as I even had to open a bottle of classic Chianti to compare the notes.
I tasted two Sangiovese wines from Castello di Amorosa (for the history of the Castello, which is very fascinating, I would like to refer you to the link I included above).
2017 Castello di Amorosa Sangiovese Napa Valley (14.7% ABV, $36)
Dark garnet
Plums, cherries, baking spices
Plums, tart cherries, light tannins, medium body, good structure, a hint of leather.
8-/8, it is reminiscent of the Chianti, nicely approachable, but will improve with time, judging by the late tannins on the finish on the second day.
2018 Castello di Amorosa Voyager Vineyard Sangiovese Napa Valley (14.5% ABV, $45, single vineyard)
Dark garnet
Smoke, granite, gunflint, tobacco, dark fruit, Very promising.
Tobacco, baking spices, cut through acidity, medium body. Very unusual. Needs a bit of time.
Tart cherries, a hint of vanilla, bright acidity. Reminiscent of Chianti, but not as earthy
8-
And then I opened a bottle of Cecchi Chianti and was pleasantly surprised how successful Castello di Amorosa was with their Californian Sangiovese rendition.
2017 Cecchi Chianti DOCG (13% ABV, $14)
Dark garnet
Herbs with a hint of cherries
Tart cherries, good acidity, fresh berry profile, medium body. Was earthy upon opening, but mellowed out after a few hours in the open bottle.
8-, easy to drink, nice.
As you can tell, the wines are similar, and I would call it a very successful effort.
Well, I still don’t know how Sangiovese should taste like, because this is all in the words. Unless we taste blind, we are bound by the power of words, and therefore our excitement and disappointment are fully dependent on those words. Was the Venom a bad wine? No, but it is an utter disappointment when called a Sangiovese. Thanks to Castello di Amorosa successfully offering a saving grace. While I still don’t know how Sangiovese should taste like, I’m willing to continue the quest for the tastiest rendition.
If you are still with me – thank you for reading and cheers.