The Vintners Voice

My life, like many others, has aspects that are routine. For instance, each morning I stop off at the post office to pick up the company mail. When I get to the office I plug my lap top in and, while waiting for the thing to warm up, check the voice mails and sort through the mail to see if anything is any of my business.

This morning I received a magazine, the inaugural issue, Mutineer. It billed itself as ‘not your parent’s beverage magazine’. I wasn’t completely surprised to see it. I had met the magazine’s editor-in-chief, Alan Kropf, while he was in Oregon for Pinot Camp. He had said that we would be getting a copy of the magazine, and this morning we did. So of course I began thumbing through it and noticed an article by Alan, The Great Oregon Wine Mutiny.

Let me just get it out in the open now, I am by no means a literary critic. This should come as no surprise to anyone that reads this blog regularly or knows me personally. I am also no expert on pop culture; I am a farmer and craftsmen. I should also go on the record as saying I make a modest living and have never been to Paris, the Grand Cayman Islands, don’t have accounts is Swiss banks and have never tasted a single drop of Petrus. I am not a wine expert, with the exception of the wines in barrel at Patton Valley, which I know like the back of my hand. In other words I have little use for ‘lifestyle magazines’.

Thumbing through several pages of Mutineer magazine, I found the article written by Alan. He had visited Oregon last fall and written an article about, well mostly, Doug Tunnel and his winery, Brick House Vineyards. Doug has been growing grapes in the Willamette Valley for probably close to 20 years now and had a whole other life before he decided to become a vintner. A fascinating character to say the least, Doug is the sort of guy that a lot of people might write a story about. In fact, many actually have.

Alan didn’t wade into the subject with the usual kind of wine wank. He seemed to be trying to get past the bottle and the brands and get down to what I think is interesting about wine; the people behind the wines and the nature of their relationship to their vineyards and process. I actually had to let out a ‘fuck yes’ when I read Alan’s description of Doug; “It is hard to tell where the vineyard stops and where Doug begins…”. If any of you have met Doug Tunnel you would likely agree that it would be hard to find a more elegant and accurate way to describe him.

Alan, and Mutineer, doesn’t go into petty tasting notes. They don’t list the scores assigned to the most recent Brick House releases. They don’t add to the hype that surrounds the legend of Doug Tunnel, they simply describe why Doug is worthy of that sort of attention. Alan circles the subject, tries to look past the haze of Branding and Marketing and get down to the very essence of what great wine really is; someone’s connection to a piece of ground and their commitment to honoring it. Mr. Kropf manages to slice through all of the trivial aspects of wine like Brick House Chardonnay cuts through rich foods; directly and seemingly without trying. In the Letter from the editor, Alan defines Mutineer ’s mission; “… the world of wine, beer, spirits, and all fine beverages has been somehow perverted within the void that exists between maker and drinker.” He also states that; “… the people, ideas, and culture surrounding the world of fine beverage are far more relevant and interesting than countless pages of beverage ratings… the Mutineer, will NEVER reduce something as complex and beautiful as a fine beverage to a mere number.” To that I say; can I get an Amen!

I haven’t read the entire magazine, yet. But I wanted to Post on what I think Mutineer could do for the current state of wine writing. I think, based on this one article in the first issue, that it could provide a view point that is not only lacking, but is very much needed; the point of view that wine is an honest product made by honest people and deserves to be addressed honestly. All of the pretension that surrounds wine comes from someplace AFTER is has left the vineyard and winery. There are plenty of publications that raise wine to collector’s items, symbols of elitism or make it into an intellectual pursuit on par with quantum mechanics or medieval history. Hopefully Mutineer can return wine, in the public eye, to what it has always been…real.   http://www.mutineermagazine.com

I've had several folks comment on the length of time it has been since I last posted.  I see that as a good thing, as it suggests that someone actually reads this stuff.  Nonetheless, please excuse my neglect.  This blog doesn't pay the bills ( in fact it IS a bill ), so it is always the at the bottom of my 'to do' list.

I've had a couple of whirlwind weeks; a week of sales in Ohio, Oregon Pinot Camp, and Pinot Days in San Francisco.  So I am easing back into things by not writing in my typical 'draw a line in the sand' style and instead will comment on a few things that I think need to be commented upon.

First.  While in Ohio I, along with my distributor, dropped in on an account that has been a supporter of Patton Valley.  Vue, in Hudson Ohio, is a beautiful space.  It was lively, comfortable and stylish.  I met the wine buyer, Mike Tomeselli in his red wine cellar.  He quickly began pulling corks and I soon found myself sitting at the bar with a glass of a kick ass Hermitage ( several actually ) and a plate of food paired with it, prepared by Chef Rick Carson.  The whole point of me mentioning Vue is because I was deeply impressed with Mike's hospitality and very much impressed with Ricks food.  It was the sort of experience I would tend to expect from great food cities such as NY, Chicago, Portland or SF.  If you find yourself in Hudson, Ohio do yourself a favor and stop by Vue, if you don't find yourself in Hudson, make the trip ( http://www.vue-restaurant.com ).

Second.  Oregon Pinot Camp has to be one of the best 'trade only' wine events there is.  Why, you ask?  I think there are a couple of reasons; because many attendees told me so and because I had a lot of fun myself.  For those of you not 'in the know' Pinot Camp is an event sponsored by 50 different wineries in Oregon.  We bring in about 200 wine buyers from around the country and make every attempt to brain wash them about the virtues of Oregon wines.  Participants attend a rigorous schedule of tastings, panel discussions, vineyard tours, lunches, dinners and of course visits to local hangouts ( just to get the full Oregon experience ).  I have to say that it is great to meet the people who support you in an environment where you have a chance learn who they are.  It is also great to meet people who don't know your wines and see them get excited about your wines and Oregon wines in general.  Be warned, if you step into a shop or restaurant staffed by an Oregon Pinot Camp participant you will likely get caught up in their enthusiasm for Oregon wines.  I think the brain washing worked!

Third.  Pinot Days in San Francisco was an amazing event.  I have never seen so many Pinot Producers under one roof.  Oregon was greatly out numbered, but I think we showed very well.  I personally liked the opportunity to get pushed into the vinuous mosh pit with some of California's top Pinot producers.  I want my wines to be tasted against the best, to be compared with the benchmarks of greatness.  I honestly believed Patton Valley held its own against the 'competition' but would certainly welcome readers comments in that regard.  Pinot Days also gave me the opportunity to meet; face to face, once and for all, the King of Wine Bloggers, Alder Yarrow of Vinography ( http://www.vinography.com ).  I frequently post on Alders blog and he has not yet banned me from the site.

So that is what I have been up to, again please excuse my neglect.

   I began reading the work of Harold McGee, a food scientist, back when I was working as a line cook.  His book On Food and Cooking is, I believe, an absolute 'must own' book for anyone interested  in truly understanding cooking techniques.

   So it was with much enthusiasm that I read his article in the May 6th, 2007 New York Times ( co authored by Daniel Patterson ) titled " Talk Dirt To me" ( http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/06/style/tmagazine/06tdirt.html?pagewanted=1&n=Top/News/Science/Topics/Soil ).

   In the article McGee takes on one of the Community of Wine's hottest topics; Terrior.  He states early in the article that " The idea that one can taste the earth in wine is appealing...", " The trouble is that it is not true".  In typical McGee fashion he goes on to make a series of scientifically backed arguments that dispel the myth that wine is capable of tasting like the soil that the wine came from.

   He also says; " If you ask a hundred people about the meaning of terrior, they’ll give you a hundred definitions, ...".  I couldn't agree more with McGee here and I think this is the fundamental problem with any discussion of Terrior, you simply cannot be sure that any two people are talking about the same thing.  I have on this blog and elsewhere taken the stance that the word terrior should be stricken from our collective vocabulary and replaced with 'sense of place' or perhaps Matt Kramers' "somewhereness ".

    Terrior, has become a loaded word in today's wine lexicon.  It somehow denotes that only some wines are capable of showing 'terrior'.  That it is terrior that makes a wine great.  That wines dominated by earthy, mineral or soil notes show terrior and others that display more fruit do not.  Most of all I dislike the apparent criteria put forth by many wine writers that ' too much  oak, extraction or ripeness, covers up terrior'.  The problem is no one has yet to tell me  just how much oak or extraction is too much or how ripe is too ripe.  Hell most wine writers have a seriously outdate notion of what 'ripeness' is ( I have addressed this previously ).  In other words terrior is subjective.  If I were to take the advice of those with this limited view of what terrior is I would: pick my grapes as soon as they changed color ( around 17 brix ),  press them immediately so as not to extract anything from the skin, and ferment them only in stainless steel.  In other words the wines that best show terrior would be Rose's.

    'Sense of place' has no magic attributed to it.  It isn't something special that only certain vineyards from certain places are capable of obtaining.  I often assert that ALL wines display a sense of place unless a winemaker goes to great lengths to cover it up ( yes, many do ).  It isn't just wines dominated by earthy characters that show a 'sense of place', fruit flavor profiles can be specific to a place as well.  'Sense of place' also doesn't give the false impression that some parcels of land will simply make great wine no matter what; if La Tache were poorly farmed and the wine carelessly handled it too would be terrible.  'Sense of place' doesn't accept wines marked by microbial signatures as authentic reflections of place; reduction is reduction, Brett is Brett, they have no relation to place what so ever ( in fact they destroy place ).  'Sense of place' also gives as much credit to a vineyards geography; its elevation, slope, aspect, specific wind and rain patterns as it does to its soils.

    Most of all 'sense of place' doesn't require anyone to subscribe to a total bullshit world view.  McGee goes to great lengths to dispel the notion that vines take up flavor molecules from the soil and deposit it them in the wine.  He is right in doing so.  He dispels the myth that wines taste like the soil they are grown in.  He dismantles the foundation that terrior rests upon.

    What McGee does not do is strip wine completely of its influence by place.  He does not negate the importance of soil, aspect, climate etc in the final analysis of a wines 'character'.  Why does he not do so?  Why does he not kill, once and for all, the notion of terrior completely?  Simply because he cannot.  The truth is too strong.  Wines do reflect the places they come from, the earth does speak through them.  The problem is that terrior takes the arrogant position that we, as humans, can understand just what the earth is saying.  'Sense of place' give us the wiggle room needed to understand wine, it doesn't reduce the possibilities it expands them.  Most of all it allows us to be humble enough to say that though the earth is speaking, we don't understand everything it says.

Dear California Pinot Producers,

    I was urged to write this by a sales rep that works in Southern California.  It is in regards to your practice of blending Syrah with Pinot Noir.

    I want to be clear that this is not an attack on any particular 'style' of Pinot Noir.  I am simply asking that you stop blending other varietals with Pinot Noir and labeling it as varietal Pinot Noir.

   I suspect that a vast majority of you engaged in this practice are in compliance with California labeling laws, that though week and insufficient, make doing so well within your rights.  I am not objecting to you blending syrah, or any other varietal, with Pinot Noir for legal reasons.  Neither am I 'crying foul' because we here in Oregon must live with much more stringent laws for labeling our beloved Pinot Noir.  I am asking you to stop doing this to honor the nobility of the Pinot Noir grape.

   Pinot Noir, as a wine, is most capable of reflecting a sense of its origins both in terms of where it is grown and how it is made.  Its wines display levels grace, sophistication, finesse and elegance that simply cannot be achieved by other grapes. It is the inherent character of Pinot Noir that makes it one of the great grapes of the world.  Like the breeding of fine horses, dogs or livestock; Pinot Noir too deserves to maintain a purity of its bloodline.  The blending of of syrah, or other varietals, with Pinot Noir is to make it something other than Pinot Noir, to 'soil' its purity and nobility.

   Now I do understand that most of the wines made this way are not; premium, single vineyard wines of distinction.  I do understand that a majority of these wines are being sold at price points under $20, perhaps even lower, that are attractive to 'new' consumers of wine.  It is for this reason that I am compelled to write this letter. 

    Many of these new consumers have, quite simply, not yet had the opportunity to experience great Pinot Noir.  By offering them these misleading wines, you are biasing there attitudes, pallets, and opinions creating a standard that is not in the image of true Pinot Noir.  These consumers then spend thier lives lost in a sea of wine never knowing, never understanding what an honest and beautiful wine Pinot Noir can be.

    Your actions are effecting the countless producers of 100%, honest and true, Pinot Noir.  Your 'rabbit in the hat trick' wines are creating an obstacle between producers of pure pinot noir and the consumers that deserve more honest wines.  You are creating false and confusing expectations in consumers.  This will only serve to make wine more intimidating and alienate would be customers. 

    Please, stop tainting Pinot Noir with other varietals.  It isn't good for our industry.   It isn't good for consumers. Most of all it just isn't good for the future of Pinot Noir.

Jerry D. Murray

    I was sorry to have missed Clark Smiths appearance at the Portland Indie Wine Festival.  By reading his most recent post on his blog GrapeCrafter ( http://www.grapecrafter.com ), I was even more sorry.  In a post titled "Yest innoculation- Threat or Menace " Clark throws a long bomb into the Community of Wine.  He points out that there seems to be a bias against the use of cultured yeasts by wine critics, writers and consumers and tries to make the argument for their use.  The gist of his argument is that: 1). the imprint of  cultured yeast on wine is quite minimal, 2).  the use of cultured yeasts minimizes the development of microbes that DO have an imprint on the wine.   This was all discussed in the framework of 'Natural' wines.

    There is a commonly held opinion that 'native' or 'wild' yeast fermentations somehow express 'terrior' while cultured yeasts somehow destroy it.  Mr Smith then turns the argument to the age old one of 'what is terrior'.  Like Clark, I agree that cultured yeasts leave a minimal imprint on wines and that 'place' is much more resilient  than wine critics would have us believe.  I, and I suspect Clark too, is tired of people defining terrior as a wine that smells earthy.  I hear it all the time, someone sticks their nose into some wine that clearly has a flaw and declares that the wine shows terrior.  I suspect that Clark is frustrated with people mistaking the band aid character of Brett or the toasty funky hints of pediococcus or the blue cheese tones of lactobacillus as 'terrior'.  I know for  a fact that I am.  

    I have stopped using the word 'terrior' precisely because it means so many things to so many people.  What it means to me is that a wine reflects the place it was grown, that the unique combination of geology and geography that defines every vineyard is expressed in the wine, that a wine has a 'sense of place'.   There is nothing unique about aromas and flavors generated by spoilage microorganisms.  Let me be clear:  in my opinion, in order for a wine to express place it must be clean!  So I can see how Clark might be frustrated by the prevalent attitude about 'terrior' and the bias against things that are wrongfully perceived to destroy it.

    However I do not take Clark's stance on the menacing nature of 'wild' or 'native' yeasts, not completely.  I do agree that there is considerable risk in allowing these yeasts to conduct fermentations.  I would however point out that each cultured yeast was itself, at one time, a wild yeast.  It was simply selected for because it had beneficial properties and was propagated  to become a cultured yeast.  Therefore, I believe, there is nothing inherently wrong with these 'wild' yeasts.

    I employ what I call 'spontaneous' fermentations exclusively in my Pinot Noir, that is I allow the yeasts living in my winery or vineyard to ferment my wines.  These yeasts perform very well, in fact the only problems with stuck fermentations or microbial spoilage I have had have been in wines fermented with cultured yeasts. I do think that these yeasts do impart a unique character to the wines, as would any yeast, but never to the point of dominating the characters I believe are the result of 'place'.  I go to great lengths to prevent the development of spoilage microbes that would otherwise destroy this sense of place, as many winemakers do.  I simply find that using native yeasts works well for me.

     Part of the appeal of cultured yeasts is the degree of 'control' they allow a winemaker to exert.  They allow winemakers, with the help of a variety of tools, to more fully shape a wine.  The use of ever increasing technology, cultured yeasts included, allow winemakers to, like god, create wines in their own image.  I have heard california winemakers say that by manipulating vines with irrigation they can choose thier harvest date months in advance.  All of these things no doubt have led to an overall increase in wine quality and should be considered a good thing.  Why wouldn't a winemaker embrace these technologies?

          Because someone has to do things the hard way.  Someone has to explore the greatest rewards that only come by assuming the greatest risks.  I don't want winemaking to be easy, I don't want it to be predictable.  Like a craftsmen working with period tools; a blacksmith with only fire and hammer, a carpenter with only hand powered tools, I approach my work.  Not because there is no other way but because it is the way that feels most right.