
Every time I open the door to my cellar – which includes an entire row of bottles with short, silver capsules – I’m presented with a clear reminder that I cut my teeth on Ridge’s wines. Over the years, what once was unabashed fondness has morphed into more of a passing interest, as my tolerance has waned for high-alcohol, in-your-face wines. The upside of that evolution is that I now have a decent number of Ridge’s bottlings that are approaching or starting into their second decade. Just on the cusp was the bottle selected to accompany the bison: 1998 York Creek (Spring Mountain, Napa Valley) Zinfandel. Winemaker Paul Draper’s label notes suggest that the wine should have passed its prime if not headed downhill by now. My experience, however, has been that Ridge Zinfandels – aside from their simplest bottlings – possess a longevity that far surpasses the norm for a variety not overwhelmingly known for its age-worthiness. This bottle maintained that track record, still showing plenty of red cherry and spicy red berry fruit, softened yet untarnished by age and presenting a persistent backbone of dusty tannins. The 14.9% alcohol level hid well and the wine paired admirably with the lean, flavorful meat.
The concept of marrying things from a place can often work wonders in the wine world. Just think of Roquefort with the sweet whites of Southwest France, a raw bar assortment with a brisk, briny Muscadet, or – why not – buffalo steak with good Zinfandel. Sometimes, though, that practice can be taken too far. Case in point: the wines of Ridge Vineyards. I can’t help but think how much better this wine could have been if not for one major stylistic stroke. Ridge insists on pairing their quintessentially American wines with the use of American oak in the cellar. It’s a match that I feel works to the detriment of their wines, lending them an intense aroma of cedar and giving them edgy, green wood tannins. Even after ten years in bottle, when these tones have mellowed, they’re still unmistakable. I don’t think switching to French oak would render Ridge’s wines any less American; it could simply make them better. One can’t help but admire Paul Draper and the team at Ridge for sticking to their guns. That said, we should never be afraid to question dogma in whatever form it takes.
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