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

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Northern Rhône, Next Week

Just a quick post tonight.  A bit of a teaser, really, as the class it relates to has been sold out for weeks.  I'm excited about it, though, and thought I'd share what I'll be pouring for those of you who might be attending (hello, Philly area readers), for those of you who love to shop on last minute notice in order to follow along, or for those who just like to read and ponder the wherefores.

So, a week from today, Wednesday, December 15, I'll be leading a seminar on the wines of the Northern Rhône Valley at Philly's Tria Fermentation School.  Here's what I'll be pouring—one at the door (bubbly) and six on the mat, as the local parlance goes:
  • Saint-Péray, Les Champs Libres (Dard & Souhaut) NV
  • Saint-Joseph "Les Oliviers" Blanc, Domaine Pierre Gonon 2009
  • Condrieu, Domaine Barou 2009
  • Vin de Table "La Souteronne," Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet (Hervé Souhaut) 2009
  • Crozes-Hermitage, Domaine Combier 2008
  • Côte-Rôtie, René Rostaing 2007
  • Cornas "Chaillot," Thierry Allemand 2005
"La Souteronne" is in there as a bit of an intentional oddball (and because I like it), as I hate to support the notion that Syrah is the *only* black grape of the Northern Rhône.  The rest?  Well, only Hermitage is missing, that is unless you count Château Grillet....  I have to say, I'm really looking forward to it.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Two in a Row at Tria: Roaming the Rhône

Back in action I'll be tonight, once again, at Philadelphia's Tria Fermentation School. In three years of teaching classes there, I do believe this is the first time I'll have led sessions on back-to-back days — definitely a good way to stay in the groove.

Tonight's class will provide a broad overview of the wines and viticultural practices of France's Rhône Valley. As with yesterday's class, seats for today's gig have long been sold out, so the following list of what I'll be pouring is presented here for those that take a distant interest or academic curiosity in such things. If you'd like to drink along with one or two (or all seven) of the wines, all the better; if so, please come back and share your thoughts.

Even though class will be presented in such a way as to provide a general informational understanding of both the Northern and Southern Rhône, a quick perusal of the list will clue many of you in to the fact that only one of the seven wines I'll be pouring actually hails from the Northern Rhône. This is hardly a suggestion of preference on my part — I'm a big fan of Northern Rhône wines and would much rather show a 2:5 or even 3:4 ratio. Rather, it's a simple reflection of what's available and, just as importantly, good on the Philadelphia-area market right now.

The links in the list below point to pieces I've written in the past on previous and/or current vintages of some of the wines. So, here's what I'll be pouring, in order of presentation and without further ado:

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

WBW #46: Whites à la Mode du Rhône

Our host for this month’s edition of Wine Blogging Wednesday is Dr. Debs, the left coast blogger behind Good Wine Under $20. Her theme for this current installment is Rhône style whites. The chosen wines can originate from anywhere in the world but should be based on one or more of the multiplicity of white grape varieties native to France’s Rhône Valley. In her original announcement, Deb offered up bonus points to anyone writing up wines from more than one region. Never one to shy away from a challenge, I selected two wines for this month’s shindig, one a Northern Rhône original, the other a California knock off, albeit with French roots.


Saint-Joseph Blanc “Ro-Rée,” Domaine Chèze 2006
Domaine Chèze is a relatively young estate, founded in 1978 by Louis Chèze. Starting thirty years ago with just one hectare of vines in Saint-Joseph, Monsieur Chèze has since expanded his property to include 30 hectares in the communes of Saint-Joseph and Condrieu as well as in areas where the wines are classified as Vin de Pays des Collines Rhodaniennes. His sole Saint-Joseph Blanc produced in most recent vintages is the cuvée “Ro-Rée,” a blend of 60% Marsanne and 40% Roussanne. The Roussanne comes from a hillside plot near the town of Limony, the Marsanne from the plateau above; both are planted in heavily granitic soils.

Though Chèze farms naturally and strives for expression of terroir in all of his wines, he does not entirely shy away from some arguably modernist approaches in the winery. After pressing and débourbage – a temperature controlled holding period during which solids are allowed to settle from the wine prior to racking – Ro-Rée is racked (moved from one vessel to another) into small barrels, where it undergoes both primary and malolactic fermentations. It then spends eight to ten months in those barriques (20% new and the rest two to three years old), occasionally undergoing batonnage, a stirring of the lees meant to nourish and enrich the texture of the wine. Techniques like these are common in the wine world but can really get arguments going between the old world and new world schools of thought. From my perspective, the key is to use the techniques, new barrels for instance, honestly and for the right reasons – to support a wine’s inherent structure, not to dress it up as something it’s not. Chèze seems to have a good understanding of those principles. So, let’s taste.

The oak is immediately apparent in Ro-Rée, not just on the nose but even to the eye. Its color is a shimmering gold in the glass, richer in hue than would be typical for a young un-oaked wine. Yet the barrel influence does not subdue the natural aromas and flavors of golden apples and raisins, honey and honeysuckle, acacia and fresh pineapple, quince and fig gelée. It’s quite round in the mouth, even slightly oily in texture, yet it stays clear of overtly buttery, over-handled characteristics. Medium acidity and firm texture keep it balanced. The oak influence broods but is well integrated, supported by the sweet, nutty concentration of the wine’s fruit. On day two, my notes remained fairly consistent, though an additional nuttiness emerged – pecans I think – along with dark, stony minerality and a touch of wood tannins on the finish. This is not my everyday cup of tea but it’s definitely well made wine that would be well suited to fish and white meats with rich sauces. $35. 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.


Paso Robles Roussanne “Tablas Creek Vineyard,” Edmunds St. John 2004
Oddly enough, the wine I selected from the new world is actually much more old world and old school in style than my French selection. Just read Steve Edmunds’ epistle to his readers on the home page of his website and you’ll get a feel for his approach. No new wood, picking based on tasting rather than chemistry tests, taste of place… it all boils down to what he calls an expression of wine’s “cultural context.” And that’s a very old world view, one that I embrace wholeheartedly. It’s also a philosophy that, along with the style of Steve’s wines, has brought him into the focus of attention from writers as dichotomous as Alice Feiring and Robert Parker. You can check out Ms. Feiring’s recent article in the San Francisco Chronicle for more detailed history of the debate. As much as I’d love to jump into the fray, I’ll refrain for now as this is actually my first experience with an Edmunds St. John wine.

Style aside, there’s a real French connection to Steve’s 2004 Roussanne. It was produced with fruit sourced from Tablas Creek Vineyard, a property owned in part by the Perrin family, proprietors of Château Beaucastel in Châteauneuf-du-Pape. The Tablas Creek property, situated in Paso Robles, was selected by the Perrins for its Mediterranean climate, similar to their home terroir. The vineyard is planted with clonal selections of vinifera vines that were imported from the Perrins’ own vineyards in the Southern Rhône.

By sheer coincidence, our host for this WBW happens to have reviewed Tablas Creek Vineyard’s own Roussanne, also from the 2004 vintage. But what about Steve’s wine?

Considerably paler in the glass than Chèze’s Saint-Joseph, this is akin to the color of dried hay. Initial aromas are rather neutral, with just a suggestion of beeswax and a saline, seashell quality. It’s texturally lean, even a little jagged, and just slightly oxidative in style. In that sense, I found it somewhat reminiscent of a Loire Valley Chenin Blanc – Savennières perhaps – when caught in its dumb phase. The wine has intense length though, with hazelnut and lanolin tones emerging in the mouth. There’s high-toned acidity and a vaguely vegetal hint (no, vegetal is not always a bad word) on the mid-palate. This is built for food and is solid, very interesting wine, at once muscular yet crisp. The only problem is its high alcohol, which doesn’t quite burn but does create disjointedness in the wine’s overall harmony. On day two, it became more aromatic, with a nose of potpourri, lime zest and peach blossoms emerging and then giving way to intense minerality. I’d like to look at this again in another couple of years. And I’m intrigued enough that I’ll definitely be seeking out more of Mr. Edmunds’ wines. $26. 14.5% alcohol. Natural cork.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

A Pair from the Rhône, Ten Years After

Eight or more years ago, I was still buying a lot more Rhône wine – and California wine, for that matter – than I do today. It’s not that I’ve lost my taste for the Rhône; in fact, I still really enjoy the wines of southeastern France that show the character of their place without being buried by today’s prevailing trend toward higher alcohol. But I digress. Today’s topic is not a slamming of high-octane wine but rather a look at a couple of wines that have had some time to grow.

One of the benefits of the contrast between my old shopping habits and current drinking patterns is that I have a decent handful of Rhône wines stashed away that are now coming of age. The picture tells part of the tale; as one wine was pulled from my cellar, complete with scuffmarks that bear witness to its rubs with other bottles over the years.


Gigondas “Le Grand Montmirail,” Domaine Brusset 1998
I bought several bottles of Brusset’s 1998 “Grand Montmirail” on release, opened one immediately and the others at progressive intervals. Sadly, it wasn’t until the last of my bottles, enjoyed recently, that it started to show much of its potential. Earlier bottles had always seemed ungiving. Not hard or tight, just mute. Finally shed of its baby fat and showing its inner structure, this was a good example of the elegant side of Southern Rhône wines. Medium bodied and supple, with subtly spiced red berry fruit, gentle tannins and a well-developed bouquet of bacon, dark spices and garrigue. Its overall impact conjured images of a smooth white rock, like the galets in the Gigondas vineyards, covered by spiced raspberry confiture. Warm and reservedly fruity on the exterior, cool and stony at the core. $23 (on release). 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: New Castle Imports, Myrtle Beach, SC.

While there’s always the chance that the time and space devoted to cellaring won’t pay dividends, it’s a much greater risk to buy old wines on the standard retail market – especially when they’re on closeout. Nonetheless, I’ll occasionally run into just such a wine that presents a combination of factors that will make me, even if against better judgment, pick up a bottle or two on the off chance that I’ll land on the up side of the risk/reward spectrum.

Cornas “Cuvée des Coteaux,” Robert Michel 1998
I do still look for and buy a reasonable amount of Northern Rhône wines, so when I spotted this Cornas recently, tucked away in an odd corner at a local shop, I did a double-take. It passed my usual visual inspections: clean labels, a capsule that spins freely, no sweet or sour aromas emanating from under said capsule, a good fill level – in short, no outward appearances of abuse. It also passed the rear label test: a Rosenthal Wine Merchants selection, one of the members on my short list of “just buy it” importers. When a quick price check came up $17, I did a triple-take. Immediately suspicious of malfeasance, I nonetheless found it hard to pass up the prospect of mature Cornas for a mere pittance relative to its usual price point, which starts at around $40 for current releases of most producers’ regular cuvées.

Closeouts like this are risky. In many shops, they’ll indicate a wine that’s been collecting dust on the shelves, ignored, unwanted and – most significantly – abused for years until, after repeated markdowns, they finally beckon to unsuspecting bargain hunting, price driven shoppers. Equally likely, it’s been lost in the corner or under a pile of other wine at a distributor’s warehouse. The chances of abuse are just as high there as at your corner liquor store, so buyer beware. Worse yet, and this happens regularly, the wine could have been returned by one shop, where it languished through a hot summer (or five), only to be re-inventoried and resold to another retailer at rock bottom prices. The apparently pristine condition of this bottle, however, suggested that it had most likely been lost in the shuffle at its original US source, Rosenthal, and then sold at significant reduction to the PA system just to move units out of inventory. This still begs the question as to why it hadn’t sold upon release. But all things considered, I was willing to chance it.

The bottle turned out to be in solid shape. Fully mature but not at all tired or worn, its tannins had softened to yield a wine of gentle texture and developed aromas. That said, it wasn’t very exciting, which may help to explain why there were bottles left unsold ten years after its vintage date. Shorter and simpler than I would have hoped, the main flavor impression it left was of a red berry fruit rollup that had been used as a saddle blanket during a warm day’s horseback ride. A minor issue with brettanomyces might be another reason for its remainder status. Given the mere $17 chance, this was a risk well played. It didn’t leave me entirely disappointed, as I drank it happily with a simple dinner of grilled sausage and peppers over brown rice. But I won’t be rushing back for the remaining bottles. $17 (closeout). 12.5% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Rosenthal Wine Merchants, New York, NY.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Wine Course: Roaming the Rhône

Class is back in session. I’ll be teaching my second in a series of regional wine courses on Tuesday, July 17, at Tria’s Fermentation School. This time around, we’ll be sampling and discussing the wines of France’s Rhône Valley. I have yet to finalize the list of wines for the evening but we’ll certainly cover all of the major bases, from the basic Côtes du Rhône appellation through the more illustrious wines of Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the South and Crozes-Hermitages and Saint-Joseph in the North. Online registration is now open at Tria’s website. See you there!

Update: Sorry folks, class is booked! If you'd like to give the waiting list a try, please contact the Fermentation School by phone at 215-972-7076.
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