Is 100 Points an Albatross for a Wine?

The thought occurred to me when I was drinking the monumental '05 Deus Ex Machina, which was graced with 100 points by Parker. It is a stupendous wine with densely packed layers that spread out beautifully across the palate. Truly a three dimensional wine with depth, breadth and length. In the back of my mind though, I was looking for things that could detract from this beauty of a wine. Honestly, I've done the same things with wines like the '02 Shafer HSS and '00 Chapoutier Ermitage Cuvee de l'Oree, neither of which I thought merited perfection. It's not just me, you see it all the time with people's tasting notes when they say, yeah, it was good but it wasn't 100 points. Rather than mentally score a wine up from 0 (and I use score liberally since I don't award points), you work your way down.

My point (and I do have one) is that it seems a burden on the wine to hold a perfect score. That is to say, some of the pleasure is taken away because the wine is being held up as an avatar of earthly perfection. Anything less is going to be a let down, notwithstanding that the wine may not be at its peak, etc. While we may know scores (or notes for that matter) are just snapshots and predictions, it is human nature to grab onto the tangible. Certainly, it is a hot topic of conversation at the table no matter how sophisticated and point-phobic the tasters are.

At the end of the day, it is what in the glass that counts. We should approach a wine without prejudice, but is it possible to approach a wine without expectations?

Bordeaux-where to start?

Someone recently asked the question as to where to start their journey with older Bordeaux. For me, I bought part of a cellar of perfectly stored, mostly 1990 Bordeaux with a few other vintages thrown in for good measure. I must say that I didn't fully appreciate my good luck at the time and wasted quite a few bottles that I'd now treat with care. I was lucky and, absent good fortune, one has to pick a place to start. The best scenario would be to be introduced to it by others with more experience. Mature Bordeaux is, after all, an acquired taste. One has to kiss quite a few frogs due to storage issues and bottle variation, so it takes some doing to learn what is a bad bottle as opposed to what is shut down as opposed to what is just plain austere and lacking charm.  Of course, one should drink as much as one can to learn about a region and Bordeaux is wonderfully diverse, which makes it both easy to find and hard to choose.  Plus, the excursion requires quite a capital commitment.

So, where would be a good place to start?  My first reaction was Pauillac because that is my favorite region and the wines are so classically Claret.  However, these wines aren't with obvious charm for someone used to drinking California Cabernet or Australian Shiraz.  They have a power driven not by fruit, but by a structure that provides an elegant frame for exquisitely pure fruit (in the best of times).  Instead, I thought of Graves.  Other than Domaine de Chevalier, the wines often display great sweetness that would attract a California wine lover, while not (necessarily) bending to a more modern style.  Many can be found in the $100 range at retail.  Even older vintages of the great La Mission Haut-Brion can be had for a reasonable price in "off" vintage.

Where would you start?

Wine Word of the Day: Variety

"Variety" refers to a single type of grape used in making a wine. For example, Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc are both grape varieties.  This term is often confused with the word "varietal," which refers to a type of wine.  If you are referring to a type of blend, such as a Bordeaux blend of Cabernet, Merlot and Petit Verdot, you would use varietal.  Just to screw you up, "varietal characteristic" again refers to the grape and not the wine, referring to the distinctive qualities of that variety.  Cassis is a varietal characteristic of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Simplicity and Balance (or less is often more)

Keith Levenberg has a very thought provoking piece on his blog The Picky Eater. His point is, essentially, that we are always looking for more of things in a wine to establish balance, rather than look for less. An analogy to art would be that often the hard part is knowing when to stop working.  (As a counter-example, see the brilliant power of Michelangelo's rough Slaves, imprisoned by the marble). In certain respects Keith is spot on. Too often we excuse a lack of balance because a wine has interesting individual component characteristics, notwithstanding it ultimately does not equal the sum of its parts. That said, to take a reductionist's view, you could just as well be defending the pleasant and round wines that have no distinguishing marks; the "steakhouse wines" that aim not to offend. However, I agree though that we often miss the peaceful, the tranquil in search of something that knocks our socks off. Just the other night, one of the stars of a recent Grenache tasting was the simplest (and coincidently least expensive) wine on the table. Why was it showing so well? In a word, balance. All of its elements were in their place even if none of those individual parts was a standout in and of itself. A wine at peace with itself.

At the end of the day, we're all seeking wines in balance and Keith correctly points out that balance isn't necessarily each piece ratcheting up to the same level, but often the elements lying peacefully next to each other. I think his point is broader than that and, in part, seeks to attack the critics that take a more is more approach and give voice to the opposite view. It's a great read from an excellent wine writer and I urge people to check it out.

Some Quick Thoughts on Alcohol and California Wines

Can California wines be balanced? My friend Vinotas posits that in order to have balanced wines, vines need to be stressed and the conditions to stress the vines are not present in California. His argument is more nuanced than that I urge everyone to read his two part series on why we sells French wine.  I'm going to try to refute some of what he says, however.

Balanced wines are harmonious unto themselves and better complement a meal, which is a huge plus. Vinotas asks "how can you eat anything with an oaky, sweet CA Cabernet that's 15-17%/volume?" Fair enough, but let's dig in a bit there. It's unlikely that he has ever had a non-fortified wine that is 17% alcohol. I've only had one California wine that was that high, a Zinfandel, and it wasn't very good. Notwithstanding the lack of 17% wines, Eurocentric drinkers will often cite them as evidence of the lack of balance. I see that as a red herring. Let's work our way down. The only wines that are 16% that I own are Zinfandels and they are generally not as serious wines, meant to drink over the near term and have massive walls of fruit to hide the alcohol. Can you drink them with food? Sure, if you like ribs or chili (and who doesn't). The argument in favor of California wines gets far more complicated once you hit 15% APV. That is especially true for California Pinot Noir. To the extent there was a trend towards over-sized Pinot, I think that pendulum has begun to swing in the opposite direction with even people like Brian Loring admitting that his wines were insipid. It is easier to defend Cabernet where the alcohol may be hidden by fruit and tannin. 

Again, it is a question of balance with the balance being between the fruit and the structure (tannin and acidity). The more alcohol, the more fruit and tannin needed for cover, which makes it harder to keep them in balance. That does not mean it is impossible, only difficult, and there are any number of winemakers that get it right.

A confession and change of heart...

I've been having somewhat of a love hate with my Pinot Noirs. I love to drink them young, but I hate to think what I'm going to miss. Something had to give. So, I've basically resolved to cellar them all (for the most part) and pick up some older Pinots at auction for consumption now. I decided that whatever you get in easy gratification from early drinking, you lose in harmony, as these young wines (for all their charm) are not really knit together yet.

Accordingly, for my long-term strategy, I've been looking for wines with great tannic and acid structure to match the inevitably sweet California fruit. Largely, that means eliminating the wines with lower acidity and higher alcohol. I must admit that I got this really wrong in my early impressions in Pinot Noir. I defended the bigger style of Pinots, while others knowingly clucked that I'd come around. At least it didn't take long for me to see the light! I'm not saying that others can't enjoy those wines, but for me and my palate, they weren't really working. Generally speaking, I've found these wines to be from the true Sonoma Coast and, to a certain degree, RRV. I've gone through almost all my Central Coast Pinots and now stick to Williams Selyem, Rivers-Marie, Littorai and KB (because I can't afford not to buy it). I also like some of the things that Andrew Vingiello, Jamie Kutch and a few others are doing.

So, here's a couple of tasting notes from my new adventure into the world of self-denial. While I love fruit from WS Rochioli, the precision and focus of the WS Hirsch clearly won my heart. Perhaps it's my love of the Sonoma Coast or perhaps, just perhaps, I drank the 1998 too young....

• 1998 Williams Selyem Pinot Noir Rochioli Riverblock - The marriage of Williams-Selyem and Rochioli fruit is always going to be a treat. The nose was quietly brooding with an earthy raspberry and tell-tale RRV cola notes and some baking spice. It had a tremendous presence on the palate with juicy, sappy dark red fruit. Still, it lacked a bit of precision and, while the acidity was ample, it still needs a little time to integrate better with the fruit. Given that there was a surprising amount of tannic structure left, I think this actually needs a little time for the fruit to mellow. Who'd've thunk it.
  
• 1994 Williams Selyem Pinot Noir Hirsch Vineyard - Just a stellar bottle of wine. The nose showed pure and complex with vibrant and vivid red fruits intermingled with wet earth and a satisfying citrus that I love in Sonoma Coast Pinots. The fruit was quite lively and remarkably precise, dancing along in the mouth on beam of lemon-y acidity. The most satisfying this was that everything was in its place; all elements driving the wine from the glass through the finish.