Wine Blogging Wednesday (aargh… Thursday, again) #45: Old World Riesling

I like riesling more than I think I do.

What I mean to say is that as I pondered the theme of the May Wine Blogging Wednesday and tried to choose an Old World riesling for this contribution, I kept thinking about the many ways in which I’d enjoyed it, just over the last few months: alsatian Léon Beyer riesling by the glass in two restaurants (dry, mineral and yet nicely aromatic and expressive), a 2002 Grittermatte riesling from Domaine Julien Meyer (a touch oxydized, yet clean, well-rounded and complex), a 2000 riesling from Ontario’s Hernder Estate Winery, a bottle of Mort’s Block from Kilikanoon, a Grant Burge riesling, a Mount Cass slightly botrytized riesling from New Zealand (see my French-language review here) , and so on. The variety in acidity, mineral character, floral and citrus aromas and other characters never ceases to impress me, as I note the high range of flavors and styles that are found in this varietal, depending on where it is grown and how it is put together. The integration of acidity and sweetness and varying levels of both are especially fascinating, from bottle to bottle.

Yet somehow, I seem to have a baseline notion in my brain that riesling is a dry wine from Alsace that you drink in the fall or winter with sauerkraut, pork chops or dry-cured ham and sausages. Even though I love it with salmon, peel-and-eat shrimp, sushi, hard cheeses, and all sorts of other dishes - even dessert for the sweet ice wines and other scrumptious late harvests. And even though many rieslings are refreshing enough to make very pleasant summer drinks. Go figure what goes on in a wine lover’s head, sometimes.

Anyway, as I looked around the Old World (through the Société des alcools du Québec catalogue), I tried to find something original. A wine that could show me a different variation on the acidity-sweetness complex.

So that’s how I got myself a bottle of Jásberény Riesling (or Rizling, as the label also says) from Hungarovin (which used to be the State Monopoly in Communist times), at the rather small price of 10,60$ for a one-liter bottle. From what I know about the Hungarian climate and the country’s ability to produce decent quaff at low prices, it seemed likely to me that it would perform reasonably well. The Montreal Gazette even ranked it among its best-value wines of 2006 (scroll towards the end of the PDF document).

I’m not sure I would go that far.

The nose on this pale wine is fairly typical riesling: a touch of petrol, a touch of citrus, with some cooked pear and apple compote. But as you taste it, these elements just don’t seem to come together very well. The acidity is up front and center, while the sugar seems almost to have been added to the mix, over the fruit salad type flavors. Alsace should not tremble from the challenge of this Eastern riesling.

Neither should Germany, judging from S.A. Prüm’s Wehlener Sonnenuhr 2005 Kabinett from the Mosel valley. The wine, whose name refers to a Sundial (Sonnenuhr) erected in 1842 by Jodocus Prüm as a landmark above the village of Wehlen, was really my first choice for WBW 45. I didn’t really count that much on the Jásberény to be a revelation.

The Sonnenuhr was a revelation, if need be, of the incredible pleasure provided by German rieslings, with their bright fruit, sweetness and low-alcohol freshness. It is, I have to say, a wine from the remarkably successful 2005 vintage, where the kabinett wines, the lightest and supposedly driest wines in the rather complicated German prädikat system of classification, are richer and riper than they often have been in the usually cold climate of the Mosel.

Abundant, generous aromas of ripe orange with a touch of spice and honey burst immediately from the glass as I poured the wine as an after dinner drink, with my wife and four of her friends and colleagues (another proof that riesling is not just for sauerkraut).

On tasting, the balance between sweetness and acidity showed perfectly, integrating precisely as the Jasbereny didn’t. Despite the residual sugar, there was no heaviness. On the contrary, thanks to a low alcohol level (9.5%) and relatively low-key winemaking, the freshness was remarkable: it was very much like biting into a ripe grape, with the sweet juice bursting as the skin breaks, a long-lasting impression that lingered, as it gradually revealed mineral notes that stayed on as a final impression. Everybody around the table wound up tasting it, and the wine did not linger in the glasses.

For such treasures of traditional winemaking, it is worth confronting the complications of the prädikat system. A little bit of effort is amply rewarded.

WineCreator: A Roundup on Ronda

I finally found a minute to check back for reports on WineCreator, the ambitiously-named meeting of wine pundits and renowned winemakers that was held in Ronda, in Andalusia, a couple of weeks ago.

Last weekend, Jancis Robinson published, as promised, an overview of the conference, where she revealed an intriguing side of the whole operation. Apparently, this was more (less?) than

On the way up, New Zealand is stopping by

In recent years, New Zealand has certainly been a growing concern on the international wine scene. The sauvignon blancs, of course, and, increasingly, the pinot noirs have been making great headway on world markets. The growth of the industry in general has been simply phenomenal.

Over the last decade, the number of wineries in New Zealand has doubled, the number of hectares under vine has more than tripled (from 7,410 to 25,355 hectares), and the value of exports has been multiplied nearly by ten (from 75.9 million NZ$ to 698.3 million NZ$).

In Canada as elsewhere, the signature sauvignon blanc

A glimpse at the WineCreators

Little has filtered, as of yet, about what went on at the incredibly ambitious WineCreator meeting that was held in Ronda, in Jérez country, last weekend. Yet a lot of people are surely curious about knowing what the “greatest” minds in winemaking and wine journalism came to discuss during this ” tribute to creativity in a world where the signs of globalisation are becoming increasingly evident”.

Jancis Robinson, a key participant in the meeting,

Tasting Note: Badia a Passignano Chianti Classico DOCG Riserva 1998, Antinori

This Chianti was a classic indeed. Bearing the old vertical, Swiss Bank Note style label (a lot more interesting than the very classy current sepia version), my 1998 Badia, made from a 50-hectare vineyard on an estate bought by Piero Antinori in 1987, was brought out to celebrate an anniversary - and it was worth it.

Right from the opening, the wine showed well, with a nice, full garnet color, and classic (there’s that word again) aromas of cherries, cedar and tobacco, with well-integrated oak. After a couple of hours of decanting, the flavors had gained in intensity, if anything, while the cherry notes came out in full on tasting, on a lively acidity, yet with a velvety-smooth mouthfeel. Good length, with some toasty notes along the way.

A solid performer, the wine held its own beautifully with a couscous featuring chicken, lamb and yes, even some fairly spicy merguez. The ras-al-hanout spices (a touch of clove, cinnamon and pepper), along with the saffron in the broth balanced nicely with the cigar-box, slightly spicy touches of the wine. Leg of lamb with thyme and rosemary would have done great too, as well as a number of Italian classics of the pasta persuasion.

The interesting thing is that the wine was, if anything, still a little compact. I’m sure the wine could have gone on and shown beautifully for another five to ten years, and perhaps present a little more complexity and nuances over time.

Hey, I’m not complaining. Nobody at the table did. But as I’m sipping the very last drops, it’s a bit hard to say goodbye.

Biodynamics: up front or backstage?

I’m a huge fan of a great number of biodynamic wine producers, and several “natural wine” producers, this last category essentially meaning that they are not only made from organic grapes, but also totally free of added sulfur, a widely-used stabilizer (For a quick description of the various types of bio wines, click here). Very often, wines made according to these methods have incredible character and individuality. You’ll probably read many raves from me about the artisan winemakers who promote that sort of viticulture and winemaking.

What strikes me, however, is that the promotion of biodynamic winemaking is presented in two ways. Some producers simply acknowledge that they work their vineyards that way - some do it only when they are asked - while others promote the fact that they are biodynamic producers almost as an end in itself. For example, you can’t tell, when looking at a bottle of Petalos, by Alvaro Palacios, that it’s made from biodynamic vineyards. Yet it is, and it has crisp, extremely well-defined flavors and aromas. On the opposite end, there is an Australian producer called Organic One, which puts a lot of importance on stating that it is biodynamic, yet the wines have gotten very moderate reviews, being called “lacklustre”, among other things.

Part of me cringes when I read some people discuss biodynamics as a “hot” topic or point out how it’s “cool to be green”. The last thing anyone would need would be for environmentally-friendly winemaking to be a fad!

Yet mentioning that a wine is organic, biodynamic or “natural” is becoming more and more of a marketing argument per se. And this, in turn, is creating a reaction from people who resent this push to market “green” wines as being naturally superior (pun more or less intended) to conventional - i.e. chemically-produced - wines.

I can understand why people can get confused and maybe a little frustrated about the way the whole category is presented. There are even people who are rejecting the whole organic category outright - which is as stupid as declaring that all organic wines are good, and all conventional wines are bad. There are great wines on both sides of the debate.

Today, I caught a debate on Alice Feiring’s excellent wine blog, about the Japanese “craze” for what they globally call “BIO” wines. Feiring was in fact reacting to an article in Wine Business International (the piece actually feels more like an editorial than a report) that took a very negative view to the whole issue. After making some rather extreme statements (for instance, quoting a “statistic” according to which 95% of the natural wines imported to Japan are “riddled with volatile acidity and brettanomyces”), the author of that piece, Ned Goodwin, concludes by saying that: “In a society fuelled by fads, let’s hope the BIO phenomenon is merely a passing one.” While she disagrees with Goodwin on several things, and notes some mistakes in his article, Feiring does question the use of bio as a marketing tool. She wonders if it’s not “the beginning of the end  “when natural wines makes its way into a trend story”.

Mind you, I wish Mr Goodwin would spend as much energy denouncing producers who doctor their wines with yeast inoculations destined to produce programmed flavor characteristics, and produce overly ripe, overly alcoholic wines that drown any senses of place. Especially when such producers insist that their wines have a sense of place and that they reflect the true sense of their terroir. Very often, that’s total bull. When a producer is making 500 000 bottles of a wine, with grapes coming from all over a region, there is no sense of place in any meaningful sense.

That being said, the great majority of organic, and especially, biodynamic winemakers seem to be into it for more fundamental reasons than the sales pitch. And frankly, with the amount of extra work you need to perform to produce biodynamic wines, it’s logical that most producers who have adopted this approach would be highly dedicated to producing superior wines.

Also, in the specific case of biodynamic wines, many commentators keep repeating the same basic idea: the wines just taste fantastic. As Australian wine columnist Max Allen writes on his website Red, White and Green:

Like many other consumers of organic produce, I used to be quite sceptical about many aspects of biodynamics - stirring fermented cow poo in water and spraying it on your vineyard under a waning moon, or picking grapes on ‘fruit days’ when the moon was in a ‘fire’ constellation all sounded like wacky nonsense.

But then I noticed that, more often than not, well-made biodynamic wines were sending a chill down my spine with their intensity and complexity of flavour. They not only tasted better than most ‘conventional’ - even organic - wines. They tasted different.

These were wines with an extra vitality and liveliness on the tongue, wines that were incredibly satisfying to drink, wines that made the flavour descriptions tumble out of my brain when I came to writing tasting notes.

Eric Asimov, quoting Kermit Lynch on his NY Times blog The Pour, also pointed in a similar direction:

To Lynch, who got into the wine business back in the 1970’s, it’s a catastrophe. More than anything else, great wine has to be natural and alive. These are the qualities that make it poetic and magical, like the sea and mountains, and winemakers, in the name of progress, are turning glorious individuality into homogenized commodity.

In many ways, Lynch was wise and prophetic, foreshadowing the natural wine movement that is giving great energy to the French wine industry today. Indeed, the best winemakers in France now are returning to the methods of their grandfathers, with the aid of modern technology.

Beyond environmental arguments, the basic reason why producers adopt biodynamic or organic practice, generally speaking, is to make better, more distinctive wines that draw more directly from the earth and give a true sense of terroir. That, in every way, deserves praise.

Confusion in the Cellar(ed in Canada)

The Cellared in Canada wine category, as I’ve written previously on this blog, is a marketing category whose first aim, it seems, is to create confusion with actual wines from Canada, since in fact, it can contain practically no Canadian wine, as opposed to the 100% homegrown VQA wines. Which doesn’t stop the LCBO from selling them side-by-side and mixed together on the shelves.

Apparently, the category has reached its goal perfectly. Now, even the LCBO is confused.

As an article in the St. Catharines Standard stated, last week,

Matassa meets Montreal and Manhattan

My good friend and winemaker extraordinaire Tom Lubbe is hopping over the Pond, next week, to showcase his wines in Montreal and New York City. I’m an absolute fan of Matassa Wines, a Domaine I had the chance to visit. A great week walking through the (biodynamic) vineyards, tasting the grapes, packing bottles into cases, pallets into trucks, and to stomp those gorgeous grapes with my own bare (clean) feet (see here and here for details of my stay and, more importantly, to learn more about Matassa).

In Montreal, Tom Lubbe will be hosting a special dinner at Les Cons Servent, a restaurant on rue Papineau that has been winning solid reviews since it opened last fall. Chef Stelio Perombelon (of Les Chèvres fame) will be conconcting an 8-dish meal, with each small portion accompanying a different wine from Matassa or from Tom Lubbe’s South African domaine, The Observatory. The dinner takes place Monday, April 14, 6:30 PM. Cost: 85$, all wines included, before taxes and tip. I’ll be there, so I won’t be square.

Next stop for him is New York City, where you’ll be able to meet him and taste the Matassa Wines on Tuesday, April 15, at 6:30 PM, at the Chelsea Wine Vault, inside the Chelsea Market on 16th Street, a cool shop that has a really solid list of tastings, classes and events.

On the 16th, Tom will be part of a trade event at the gorgeous Prince George Ballroom, where the wine press is invited starting at 11 AM. Wish I had more details, but all I can tell you is that about 30 producers are supposed to be there.

If you’ve never tasted wines by Matassa, be prepared to be surprised, maybe even shocked. This review of Matassa’s Cuvée Marguerite 2006 shows just how the wines don’t fly unnoticed under one’s palate. After the initial surprise, a world of amazement and mineral, sharp, focused and, yes, seductive pleasures await. I can’t get enough of it, now…

(Oh yeah, one last thing: when you see Tom, don’t forget to wish him Happy Birthday.)

Tasting note: Tahbilk Marsanne 2004

They’re no longer a Château, but the wine is still as good. I’ve loved Tahbilk’s Marsanne for years and years, and I’ve even laid down a few bottles over the years, to see how this inexpensive, well-made, original wine evolved over time. I had great fun drinking a 1994, two or three years ago, and found its nutty, candied orange flavors quite seductive. I still have an orangey 1995 and an pale gold 1997 in the cellar, which I’m waiting to be surprised by… someday.

With vines dating back to as far back as 1927, Tahbilk is a rare Australian producer of this lovely Rhône varietal, and I was amused to read on their web site that they recommend aging it - something I’d started doing well just out of curiosity.

The 2004, which is starting to turn to a lovely pale gold colour, displays rich and plentiful aromas, with notes of honey, star-fruit, apricot and a touch of toasted bread on the nose. On tasting, the bright acidity and light but smooth texture immediately strike you, before nutty, honeyed flavors emerge and roll around for a nice, long time around your mouth. At 13% alcohol, it is remarkably balanced and restrained - and here, the word restrained hardly means that you are missing out on anything. I found it lovely with some cheese, and would recommend it with salmon or poultry dishes.

The Marsanne’s great balance also means that the wine indeed has a good aging potential. At just over 15$, around these parts, I’m surely going out to get some more, and setting it in the cellar. If I can convince myself to wait.

Oh, I almost forgot. The awards are in.

Though they generated a fair bit of discussion, about whether or not they were representative and valid, the American Wine Blogging Awards were announced this week by Fermentation blog’s Tom Wark. I have to congratulate Alder Yarrow for the two awards won for his blog Vinography, well-deserved indeed. I’m also glad about Tablas Creek’s Winery blog Award for… best winery blog: I started getting interested in Jason Haas’ blog after a really great post about the great cork debate, and have been a fan since (the wines are pretty great too).

No award process is perfect, but after reading Tom Wark’s discussion of the whole thing, I have to say the AWBA seem about as good as it can get, for a world as fluid as wine blogging. Points were awarded both for public vote and for judge’s votes, nominations were open to the public, while the finalists were selected from this open list by the judges. Could the Awards be improved upon? Probably. Should they be back next year? Tom Wark seems to be hesitating (perhaps from all the criticism), but I certainly think it would be worth it.