Showing posts with label Napa Valley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Napa Valley. Show all posts

Thursday, January 10, 2008

BYOB: Wines at Marigold Kitchen

Lest ye despair, faithful readers, that I have foregone the pleasures of wine at repast, fear not. I have just been focusing of late on catching up with things on the Philly front. And along the way, I’ve decided that when writing up BYOB restaurants, it would be best not to intertwine wine notes into the restaurant report. After all, wine at BYOs, though hardly an afterthought on my part, is not selected nor purveyed by the establishment.

One of the beautiful benefits of the BYOB culture so prevalent in Philadelphia is the opportunity it affords to sample several bottles over the course of a meal. Leftovers can always be carried home or, more magnanimously, shared with the service and kitchen staff or even with neighboring diners. At a licensed restaurant, one might be more likely to scrimp or hoard, as high mark-ups can quickly and quietly change an evening’s outing from comfortable to extravagant. When dining in spots with liquor licenses, I’ll continue to include wine and beverage commentary in the central report, as I consider the wine list an integral element of the overall full-service restaurant experience.

So, consider this episode one of a new thread: the BYO wine list. During a recent meal at Marigold Kitchen, my dining partners and I enjoyed...

Champagne Grand Cru “Cuvée Rosé,” Delavenne Père et Fils NV
Delavenne is a small grower producer (RM) Champagne house located in Bouzy, with vineyards there, in Ambonnay and in Cramant. Their “Cuvée Rosé” is not a rosé de saignée but rather a blend of 50% Chardonnay and 38% Pinot Noir (white juice only) made pink by the addition of 12% Bouzy Rouge, a still wine made from 100% Pinot Noir. Fresh and fruit forward, bursting with delicate aromas and flavors of raspberries, strawberries and orange peel, hinting only ever so slightly at an underlying yeastiness, it made for an excellent aperitif. By sheer stroke of luck, it turned out to be pretty tasty with our beet and almond amuse bouche.
$48. 12% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.


Kremstal Grüner Veltliner “Holzgasse” Qualitatswein trocken, Weingut Buchegger 2006
Austrian wine seems to have achieved a renaissance in the popular mind over the last few years, with the unfortunate side effect of sky-rocketing prices. A Federspiel from a good producer now often costs what a Smaragd from the same grower did only two or three years ago. That inflation has put an awful lot of tempting wines up in the $30+ starting price range. So when I found a Qualitatswein Grüner Veltliner priced in the mid-teens during a recent trip down to State Line Liquors, it caught my eye. The producer, Weingut Buchegger, was an unknown quantity to me; its importer, though, is on my short list of most trusted back labels. I snatched it up posthaste. Was it worth the money? Yes. Was it worth the enthusiasm? No. , Buchegger’s GV “Holzgasse” paired well enough in a neutral sense with appetizers ranging from sweetbreads to tuna carpaccio to celery root and hazelnut soup, yet it added little in the way of spark or nuance, serving mainly as clean, proper refreshment. Simple and slightly fat in texture, it was reasonably well balanced but lacked the nerve and peppery, citrus and floral characteristics I crave in a better example of Grüner Veltliner.
$17. 12.5% Alcohol. Stelvin closure. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler Importing, Unionville, PA.

Bourgogne Hautes Côtes de Nuits, Domaine Olivier & Anne-Marie Rion 2004
This turned out to be one of those wines that justified my practice of toting a half dozen bottles with me when I go to a BYOB. One reason for the heavy baggage is to allow for a range of choices to match the dishes that I and my dining partners select. The other primary reason is insurance. It’s extremely frustrating to arrive with only one bottle in hand, open it and find that it’s corked or otherwise flawed. It’s happened to me in the past and I won’t let it happen again.

This bottle wasn’t corked but it had clearly leaked. I immediately suspect heat damage in this scenario. However, this bottle was purchased at a temperature controlled wine shop which procures its goods through a climate controlled supply chain. It then slept for a year or two in my temp controlled cellar. Nonetheless, the cork was stained up and down its sides and oozing wine had formed a sticky mess under the capsule. Most likely, then, this was simply a faulty cork or a bottle that had been laid down in its box on the bottling line before its cork had time to expand and form a perfect seal. The end result, though the juice was still quite drinkable, was a wine that had been robbed by slight oxidation of both freshness and clarity of color. When last tasted, it was lively, bright and just coming into its own. This bottle was round, generous in texture yet dull in its acidity and features, like bland cherry compote. It was just alive enough to make an adequate mate to my pork loin and the olive oil poached salmon selected by one of my pals; it just wasn’t all it could have been.
$19. 13% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon “Estate Grown on Mount Veeder,” The Hess Collection 1997
Opened vaguely to accompany our cheese course but primarily as something to taste as we relaxed after dinner, this was also the sentimental selection of the evening. Our dining partners, visiting from California, had brought this bottle to me as a gift several years ago. It’s a shame that California Cabs built along this scale are all but a thing of the past. Though not as brooding and briary as wines more redolent of their Howell Mountain origins, this was well balanced, eminently drinkable and food friendly Cabernet. Its 13% alcohol is all but a thing of the past. Still showing potential for several more years in the cellar, there was plenty of freshness, with tannins full and plush. Black currant and blackberry fruit dominated with a touch of black cherry, cedar and spice rounding out the package.
Release price unknown. 13% alcohol. Natural cork closure.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Napa Valley “Vino de Casa,” Ceja Vineyards 2002

Knowing I’d be in the mood for a simple meal at the end of a long, slow day at work on Tuesday, I took some ground lamb out of the freezer to thaw in time for dinner. In between other foci throughout the day, I gave some thought to what I’d pull from the cellar to accompany the lamb burgers I planned to make. I kept returning to two wines: one a Napa Valley red blend from Ceja Vineyards, the other a Saint-Joseph Rouge from Yves Cuilleron. During the course of the day, I stumbled upon a recent posting on Tom Wark’s Fermentation.

Tom’s piece, "Pointing Us Where We Should Be Looking,” discusses the political significance and importance of migrant, often illegal, laborers in the California wine industry. In the context of the post, Tom happened to mention Amelia Ceja, owner of Ceja Vineyards, who, unbeknownst to me until that point, was the first Mexican-American woman to head a US-based winery. This chance discovery and random chain of occurrences made clear my final choice. It would be the 2002 “Vino de Casa” from Ceja.

Napa Valley “Vino de Casa,” Ceja Vineyards 2002
I don’t often write about new world wines. Frankly, that’s because even though I cut my teeth on them I no longer drink them with much frequency. Too many of the wines, famous or not, have been pushed to levels of ripeness, alcohol and “polish” that have made them unfriendly to food and uninteresting to the delicate sensibilities of this old man’s jaded palate. Fully aware that this is a huge generalization, I try to keep a slightly open mind and, from time to time, will pick up a bottle or three to explore what’s out there and to stay at least a little in touch with a huge part of today’s wine industry.

Frankly number two: I never would have selected this wine on my own. A California blend of Pinot Noir, Merlot and Syrah (foul ball, strike one) from a producer unknown to me (caught me looking, strike two) would generally have about as much appeal as the thought of getting my finger caught in a mouse trap. Blend Pinot Noir with Gamay in Cheverny or in a Bourgogne Passetoutgrains and you might have a good chance at a characterful everyday quaff. Blend it with César in Irancy, one of the more esoteric corners of Burgundy, and things can get interesting. But blend Pinot Noir with Merlot and Syrah? It seems sure to have its voice drowned out by its louder partners.

So how did this bottle end up chilling in my little cellar for the last two years? I put myself in the hands of a staff member at a good wine shop, Teller Wines, during a week at the Delaware shore a couple of summers ago. And, after talking with the salesperson for a while, I asked him specifically to recommend a couple of things that he liked that were outside my usual stomping grounds. It’s a good way to get to try new things, especially if you have a sense that the person doing the recommending actually cares about wine. I ended up with just two bottles: a New Zealand Gewurztraminer and the 2002 “Vino de Casa” from Ceja.

When I finally uncorked the Ceja this past Tuesday, it turned out to be surprisingly good. Its color was a bright ruby/cherry red. It was not opaque; rather, I could actually see my hand, albeit slightly distorted, through the wine in my glass. And it smelled and tasted like, well, Pinot Noir, California style, with lots of forward black cherry and spice on the nose along with clean fruit and uplifting acidity on the palate. The wine didn’t have a particularly strong sense of place beyond that “Californianess” – I could have placed it in Santa Barbara or the Russian River just as easily as in the Napa side of Carneros – but it did taste like pretty honest wine. It wasn’t terribly over-adjusted. Most happily of all, it wasn’t high alcohol nor was it hot on the finish. And it was actually pretty food friendly. I could have asked for a more perfect match for the lamb burgers – the Ceja was almost devoid of tannins and a little on the jammy, straightforward side. But it definitely didn’t suck. And sometimes that’s actually pretty high praise.

$23. Produced and bottled by Ceja Vineyards. Under 14% alcohol (exact content unlisted). Natural cork closure.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Napa: A Day of Contrasts, Part Two

Afternoon session – Stony Hill Vineyard:
Following our morning visit at Oakville’s Harlan Estate and a reasonably tasty yet uncharacterful lunch at St. Helena fossil Tra Vigne, we headed up the valley for our afternoon appointment. Character abounds, we would find, at Stony Hill Vineyard. Heading north out of St. Helena, turning left up the access road for Bale Grist Mill State Park and then left again onto the private road which leads to the winery, we quickly found ourselves in an atmosphere that would have provided fodder for the tales of Poe or Tolkien. A forest of small, gnarled trees – dark red bark mottled by lichen, limbs intermittently draped with a local moss – lends an eerie aura to the narrow dirt road that winds its way up the mountainside.

Making the last sharp turn up the incline and crunching to a stop in the gravel parking area at Stony Hill, we were greeted first by an enthusiastic little wire-haired terrier and then, our presence announced, by office and site manager, Mary Burklow. After a round of introductions, Mary led us on a path along the ridge of the hill, straight through the vineyards and directly into the estate’s tiny winery building. As soon as she thrust the door open, a blast of cold, damp air rushed out to meet us. Welcome to Stony Hill’s barrel room…. With little ado, Mary pulled a barrel sample, poured us each a splash from the pipette and asked us to guess. Knowing that they produce one of Napa’s few Tocai Friulano (from old-vine fruit grown at neighboring Larkmead Vineyards), and sensing a faint floral, peachy hint lurking behind the yeasty aromas of fermentation, I guessed – and was wrong. It was their 2006 Gewurztraminer, light, bone dry and misleadingly crisp and un-spicy.

Five or six barrel samples later, we’d learned a bit about Stony Hill’s winemaking practices. The barrels themselves first jumped to attention. In stark contrast to the uniform ranks of gleaming new cooperage at Harlan, many of the casks here, bowing and graying though still obviously airtight, showed signs of serious age. Mary explained that the barrels, mostly barriques with some larger casks and tonneaux, are anywhere from 14-50 years old. That’s right, 50, almost as old as the winery itself. Kept sanitary from year-to-year, these relics go right on doing their work, providing a neutral environment for Stony Hill’s backward wines to come to life. New barrels are introduced only when a member of the older generation finally gives up the ghost.

Fruit is bladder pressed, the juice settled and then inoculated. Primary fermentations are carried out in wood in most cases, followed by a racking off the lees. Their Riesling is fermented and aged half in steel, half in barrel and then blended prior to bottling. The Gewurztraminer and Tocai are barrel aged until April following the harvest; Chardonnay and Semillon stay in wood until June. Malolactic fermentation is avoided for all wines, a practice necessitating a wee bit of sulfur but kept relatively natural by the incredibly cool cellar conditions. In their own words, “Malolactic fermentation both destroys the acid structure of the wine and introduces extraneous flavors not borne from the grape itself.” Given this admirably stoic approach, I was a bit surprised that primary fermentations are not left up to the wild yeasts; Mary explained that native yeasts do play a role but are often not strong enough to ensure a complete, steady fermentation.

Since 1973, Stony Hill’s wines have been made by Mike Chelini, who originally joined as vineyard foreman and was quickly promoted to winemaker. Mike’s approach is as old-school as I’ve come across just about anywhere, much less in the heartland of ultra-modern California wine country. The wines are grown naturally in the vineyard and brought to life in the cellar. They speak of both. The concept of terroir at Stony Hill clearly reflects not just the hillside environment but also the feel, taste and smell of their old, stone barrel room, a trait that reminds me very much of a past visit to the caves of Prince Philippe Poniatowski in Vouvray. Like there, the wines are meant to taste of the place and they’re built to last.

If it hasn’t already become obvious, Stony Hill is one of the few estates in the Napa Valley that rests its reputation solely on the production of white wine. They’ve been at it since 1947, when original owners Fred and Eleanor McCrea planted Chardonnay in homage to the great whites of Burgundy. At the time, only 200 acres of Chardonnay were planted in the entire state of California but the McCrea’s sensed that their little kingdom, perched on the hillside 400-800 feet above the valley floor, was a special place. Their commitment to the potential of Napa Chardonnay remains today, as it represents over 75% of their overall vineyard area of 39 acres. The balance of their land is planted to Riesling (10 acres) with Gewurztraminer and Semillon rounding things out at three and one acre, respectively.

The only wines of color produced come from a small plot of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot – planted as a pest control device along a property line bordering on a stream – and from a ¼ acre plot of Syrah planted only five years ago as part of the family garden. At present, all 100 or so cases – two reds and one rosé – are destined for staff consumption and entertainment only; not a bottle of any is sold. Current owner Peter McCrea, son of Fred and Eleanor, described the rosé – a saignée of the Cab/Merlot blend – as “swimming pool wine.” Mary more colorfully called it a classic PD wine. If you’re scratching your head like I was, “PD” is code for panty dropper…. Peter confirms that the estate does not plan to market anything other than whites in the future.

Coincidentally, as at Harlan, annual production at Stony Hill runs around 3,000 cases. And nearly all of the wine is sold directly to mailing list customers, with just a small percentage going to local restaurants and to a few detail-minded distributors in key urban markets. With a 60-year history though, Stony Hill Vineyard is one of Napa Valley’s pioneering estates. And their wines top out at $35 per bottle.

Stony Hill Chardonnays and Rieslings have earned a reputation as being among the most age-worthy dry whites produced in the Napa Valley. Thinking back to those barrel samples pulled for us by Mary, even the 2006 Gewurztraminer and Tocai, wines meant for early enjoyment, showed uncommon structure. Still in steel, the Riesling was too impenetrable to assess. The 2006 Chardonnay, however, held serious promise. It smelled a little of cellar must on the nose but, loaded with stony minerality and vibrant acidity, hinted at a long future.

Back in the McCrea’s dining room toward the end of our visit, tasting the current releases of Stony Hill Chardonnay from bottle reinforced our earlier impressions and spoke volumes about good work in the vineyard. The 2003 Chardonnay, product of a drought year in this part of St. Helena, was atypically rich and fleshy for Stony Hill yet still tasted young, fresh and clean. The 2004, though, really spoke to the potential for these wines. Tight on the nose, very Chablis-like in its aromas, bright, racy and steely on the palate, it’s a wine I’d love to drink in another ten or even twenty years.

That was just about it for our visit. We followed Mary down the grade to the bottle storage barn to pick up the handful of ’03 and ’04 Chardonnay we’d purchased. As I packaged the bottles for a safe ride back East in the airline baggage compartment, Mary disappeared for a moment. Upon her return, she handed us a bottle of their White Riesling, vintage 1992, and made us promise to have it with dinner when we got back to Monterey that night. Paired with a simple plate of sautéed snapper and roasted Jerusalem artichokes, it was a delicious reminder of our visit – hinting at the mellowed edges and mineral tones that come with age, tasting very much alive and finishing with a touch of sweetness.

* * *
Recommended reading:

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Napa: A Day of Contrasts, Part One

When working in the wine trade, it becomes quite common for wine visits – part pleasure, part work – to be intertwined with personal vacation. Case in point: when making a long overdue trip to visit some good friends in Monterey, California earlier this year, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take them along for the three-hour drive up to the Napa/Sonoma heartland for a few days of wine exploration. After two very relaxing days investigating the Sonoma, Russian River Valley and Healdsburg areas, we capped things off with a whirlwind of a day in Napa. Our choice of winery visits that day, Harlan Estate and Stony Hill Vineyard, proved to be a most unusual combination, a stark study in contrasts.

Morning session – Harlan Estate:
As it stands today, Harlan Estate is the end result of the classic California modest-to-magnificent entrepreneurial success story. A butcher’s son, founder Bill Harlan grew up in Southern California. As an adult, he and some friends founded Pacific Union Realty, where Bill quickly amassed a fortune through strong investments and a good head for the market. When the wine bug eventually bit, he leveraged his capital to become a partner in Merryvale Vineyards. During his tenure at Merryvale, Bill’s dream, to create a Napa Valley equivalent to the First Growth châteaux of the left bank of Bordeaux, eventually gave birth to what is now Harlan Estate. He spent roughly ten years purchasing and piecing together the six original properties that now make up Harlan’s 240-acre spread. Today, forty acres are under vine, with a pure focus on hillside vineyards; the remaining 200 acres consist of building lots and protected forest area. Since their first vintage in 1990, Harlan has quickly built a reputation for producing one of the most highly sought after and expensive wines in the state, appearing on just about every major critic’s top-five list of most collectible California “cult wines.”

Before I proceed too much further, I should warn you: don’t get your hopes up, wine country tourists. Harlan is not typically open to visitors. As a rule, they accept only one visit per week, always by appointment only, almost always by a member of the trade or a large-scale, existing customer. I lucked my way into an appointment via the trade route as I work at a shop which is one of the few retail outlets in the country for the wines of Harlan. Again, don’t get your hopes up, shoppers. Every bottle is pre-sold. The wine never makes it onto the shelves. It probably doesn’t in any store. Frankly, Harlan could get away with never accepting visitors. They’d still sell every bottle they make. But any good marketing mind knows that allowing an occasional peek at the elite builds demand and anticipation. To that end, Harlan Estate employs a full-time hospitality and PR manager, Ted Davidson.

Ted’s job began well before our arrival. I don’t believe I’ve ever received so many confirmation and informational phone calls and e-mails for a single winery visit. His last call provided details for a detour, through the vineyard paths of neighbors on the valley floor, around some unannounced road work on the lane leading up to Harlan’s unmarked, private drive. Once through the electronic security gate, we wound up the switchback drive to find Ted ready to guide us into an appropriate parking position. Our first stop on the tour was less than typical. A set of wooden stairs led to a wooden landing built into the hillside looking down onto Harlan’s lower vineyards and the valley below. Waiting on the landing were five Riedel flutes and a chilled bottle of Bollinger NV Brut Champagne – not a bad way to get things started. We enjoyed our early morning glasses of bubbly while learning a bit about the history, mission and landscape of the estate, our discussion intermittently accented by snips from the pruning shears of the Central American field crew working the vines immediately below us.

The terraced vineyards at Harlan spread across the hillsides of their property over an elevation range from 200-1200 feet. The dips and curves of the Oakville Grade provide for a diversity of exposition and slope, leading to the identification by Harlan’s vineyard manager of over 60 different block characteristics. Typical to the terroir of Oakville, which includes a high percentage of Napa and Sonoma volcanic soil, Cabernet Sauvignon rules the roost, representing about 80% of the estate’s plantings. Vines are rounded out by Merlot (10%) as well as Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot which together comprise the remaining 10%. About 40 different plot and vine-specific barrel selections are made by the winemaking team, giving them a great degree of flexibility and nuance when determining the final blend in any given vintage. Fruit is not put into production here until the sixth or seventh leaf; vines are considered mature at 15-20 years depending upon site and variety. With yields ranging from 1.5 to 2.5 tons per acre, fairly low by Napa standards, concentration and quality are sought first and foremost. Roughly 20% of each year’s crop – produce from the youngest vines and fruit not quite up to grade – is sold off anonymously on the local market. Anonymity is strictly maintained to avoid possibility of brand dilution via the creation of “Harlan Vineyard” bottlings by any other producers.

The biggest parts of the typical visit, a walk through the vineyards and a tour of the cellars and winery, turn out to be Ted’s simplest. We set not one foot in a vineyard, viewing the plants and earth only from our perch on the hillside deck and from the upper driveway. And the winery is the epitome of simplicity. Harlan makes only two wines, both red and both relatively non-interventionist. As a result, equipment is kept to the highest quality basics. Because bottling is simultaneous for both wines and done only once per year, hiring a mobile bottling unit is preferred to owning and maintaining in-house equipment. Most primary fermentation (about 80%) is carried out in open-top oak casks, with the remaining 20%, mostly for the Merlot and Cabernet Franc, conducted in steel. Aside from space for the vats, a bladder press, de-stemmer and a few other necessities, the majority of the pristinely clean, unadorned yet handsomely designed space is given over to barrel storage. To support the richness and structure of their fruit, Harlan uses 100% new barriques in which their wines age for 26 months, resulting in three vintages resting in barrel at any given time. Cooperage is of the highest quality. The center exterior portion of each barrique is intentionally “painted” with a coating of its contents, giving the barrel room a warm, organic yet highly manicured aura. We were not offered barrel tasting samples.

For our final destination, Ted led us into the hospitality section of the winery, a single, high-ceilinged, exposed beam room with a lounge area, tasting/dining table and one of Mr. Harlan’s three private wine libraries (books, not bottles). Floor-to-ceiling glass doors span each length of the room and, in warmer weather, can be opened to admit the hillside breezes and provide a panoramic view of vines and benchland forest. In this “hunting lodge chic” room, the hopes of something to taste would finally be realized. First though, all of us relaxing in the black leather arm chairs in the sitting area, Ted took the opportunity to provide us with a fuller understanding of the concept of the estate.

As mentioned earlier, Bill Harlan’s original and continuing vision is for his property and wines to be thought of in the same way one might consider the greatest estates of Bordeaux. When one mentions Château Latour or Château Lafite-Rothschild, the idea goes, there is little need to mention that they are located in Pauillac and, in theory at least, there should be no need to mention grape variety. They are known simply as “Latour” and as “Lafite.” This aim is reflected in the branding campaign, the labeling and the packaging of Harlan’s two wines. In addition to elegant and consistent artwork, the labels simply state the name of the wine and the place of origin. Grape names do not appear and there is no “story” on the back label. Also like many of the most respected estates of the Médoc, Harlan produces only two wines: their first-quality wine, Harlan Estate, and a second wine, The Maiden. The Maiden is not intentionally crafted to be gentler, simpler or cheaper; rather, it is an honest second wine, produced from the younger vine fruit of the estate and from barrel selections that do not make the cut for the first wine. And like the great growths of the Gironde, Harlan’s wines are expensive. The most recent releases, straight from Harlan’s mailing list, were priced at $350 and $100 per bottle. Good luck finding them at those prices once they hit the retail and secondary markets. Harlan Estate, in particular, can at least double in value as soon as it hits the shelf or the auction block. They are wines only for the wealthy, the lucky and the foolhardy; that said, the wines are good.

When we finally got down to the business of tasting, we realized that we were, after all, being offered barrel samples. The final blend of the 2004s had been racked for bottling just days earlier; the half-bottles of each wine we’d spied on the coffee table had been pulled from the bottling vat that very morning.

The Maiden 2004 offers a lush, forward mouthful of plum, raspberry and blueberry fruit with a subtle hint of menthol, all framed by ripe, fine-grained tannins. The wine is built to last but already, before even undergoing its destined sixteen months of pre-release bottle aging, eminently drinkable. Less than 1000 cases of The Maiden are produced each year and it is offered for sale only via the estate’s mailing list. Contrary to popular myth, you need not “know someone” to get on Harlan’s list. Anyone interested can sign up and all will be offered a limited number of bottles of The Maiden in the first year. It will, however, typically take three or more years of purchasing The Maiden before access to the Harlan Estate bottling is offered. Once you’re offered Harlan, your previous allocation of The Maiden is turned over to new customers.

Not much remained at this point of our visit other than the pièce de résistance. Harlan Estate 2004 is seriously good juice. Black cherry in color and opaque at its core, it shows a lovely tint of ripe cherry red at its rim. The flavors are bigger, more powerful and brooding relative to The Maiden. Its tannins are firmer and more muscular. One senses a serious expression of the Oakville hillside terroir, not loaded up with unwieldy winemaking flourishes. Flavors of concentrated black currant, blackberry and roasted meats prevail, with tremendous length on the finish. Winemaker Bob Levy targets a 20 year peak for this wine, well beyond the current trend for a 5-10 year apogee at most Napa wineries. By contemporary standards, its alcohol content is reasonable at 14.5%; its balance is impeccable. I’d love to have some of this in my cellar. At $350+ per bottle though, I can’t afford a drop of the stuff – and Ted wouldn’t sell me any that day, even if I could. At least two-thirds of Harlan’s limited 1,500 case production is sold directly to mailing list customers. The balance goes primarily to high-end restaurants and to a very limited number of retail outlets.

At the end of the morning, when Ted made it clear that our time was done, it was hard not to leave feeling impressed. Harlan’s property is one of the most spectacular, not in ostentation but rather in natural position, in Napa wine country. It was also hard not to feel like we’d been rolled through a highly practiced exercise, seeing and hearing only what is desired. And tasting, it seems, only by luck. If not for the recent racking of the 2004’s, I was left wondering if we’d have been served any samples. Even on visits to Latour and Lafite in the winter of 2004, in full knowledge that I was not representing a buyer of their products, I was offered at least two or three vintages of the marquee wine plus several back vintages of the second wines. But then, their production levels are about ten times that of Harlan – and their history and experience centuries longer. It will be interesting to see how the vision at Harlan Estate stands the test of time.

Stay tuned for a report on part two of the day. Our visit to Stony Hill Vineyard would prove to be another world relative to the morning’s adventure.

* * *
Recommended reading:
Blog Widget by LinkWithin