“Keep tasting real wines and take care.”

•August 7, 2009 • 3 Comments

i’m slowly working on a few wrap-up posts for this whole affair that i plan to post in the next couple days. i just haven’t felt like blogging at all during these lazy summer days and people are still perusing the 31 Days so i’ve kept pretty hands off.

i’ve been drinking some tremendous wines as of late that i hope to write about soon, including a Phillipe Pacalet Charmes-Chamberting Grand Cru, Vouette et Sorbée Saignée de Sorbée, and a Dard et Ribo Pe de Loup. i also met with the talented NOPA sous chef Richie Nakano and had a post planned featuring him, but it has since been discarded into the dustbin of memory due to malaise. Oh well. Do check out Richie’s blog, linecook415 as it one the best things going for anyone interested in food. We drank a bottle of 2007 Dard et Ribo Crozes Hermitage blanc. It was fucking great, light beautiful wine. None of that perfumed heaviness that dominates so many Rhone whites.

i do want to take a minute to say thanks to all the people who contributed to this project, from the people who do this professionally and felt motivated by a passion for the subject to write for free to the people who write for free and are simply passionate. the whole project went off better than i could have ever imagined and i have gotten a lot of praise that belongs to every single one of you.

i would also like to share with you a short email i received from Christine & Eric Nicolas
regarding my post about their wine that sums up my feelings abou this perfectly:

“Keep tasting real wines and take care.”

Seems about right, doesn’t it?

- Cory Cartwright

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: A wrap up post and some thoughts on responsibility; or: Lyle Fass’ 62 Days of Spoofilated Wine

Day 31: A Natural Wine Romance

•July 21, 2009 • 6 Comments

Joe Dressner is an owner of Louis/Dressner Selections, an importing company based in New York. He is partners with Kevin McKenna and Denyse Louis. It is through the efforts of folks like him and the vignerons he has doggedly stuck by that we are able to drink great wine.

i hope Joe realizes that this will become the stock 'Joe Dressner' picture on the internet for eternity.

A Natural Wine Romance

Jean-Paul Brun’s 1991 Beaujolais à l’Ancienne was one of the most beautiful wines of my lifetime. I drank it in February of 1992 while it was in the red concrete vat on the left side of Jean-Paul’s sub cellar vat room, all the way in the back.

I had tasted through God knows how many wines that day and this was the last wine a vigneron was going to pull out of a barrel, steel or concrete vat. What a sublime beauty it was….1991 was a great year and I had in my hand a Gamay from limestone which could not be reproduced elsewhere, which was the perfect convergence of soil, grape, field work, vigneron and vinification.

It had urgency, freshness and a liveliness that was almost hypnotic. I could have stayed all night sipping from the vat in the cold of winter. The wine was en masse and I feared it would never reach the same level when forced into a bottle.

There is nothing more unnatural than trying to compress a vineyard and year’s work into a 750 milliliter container. One of our first vignerons used to say that if you wanted to make a great pot au feu you didn’t make it for one person. You got out an enormous pot and let it bubble and simmer for as many family members and friends you could gather around a table.

Brun’s wine was not politically correct or politically incorrect. It was simply delicious. The bottled form was good but could not match my experience in the cellar.

There has been great improvement in natural vineyard work since the early 1990s. Some vineyards will take years, if not decades, to come back to natural form after years of chemical soaking and abusive treatment. This is particularly true in richer and “prestigious” regions where potassium and pesticides were bought and spread extravagantly in the 60s and 70s. Poorer regions often did not have the budget to indulge.

In these poorer regions of “small appellations” the improvements starting in the early 1990s had been enormous. The raw materials became more precise and more expressive as vignerons moved to low yields, organic work and hand harvesting. But the results were often lost when the finished wine was forced into bottle by mobile truckers and heavy-handed treatment. These results were disheartening for those of us who spent much of our time tasting and drinking raw wines that were still a blank slate in the their infancy only to discover they had become elderly and stingy after their bottling.

In many ways, the natural wine movement is a movement to bring that immediacy into the bottle. By reducing treatments in the cellar and in the vineyards, vignerons were able to bring a more vibrant wine into that bottle. The first technique to go was filtering and then many vignerons took risks making non-sulfured or low sulfured bottling.

There were many initial excesses, some of which were proudly imported and refunded by Louis/Dressner Selections. But like any movement which wants to change our lives, the excesses were essential in reaching a reasoned course which preserves the wine while not killing the very qualities which were so seductive before the wine was squeezed into a shippable form.

The problems were different in the “prestigious regions.” Winemaking too often followed a formula of two or more years in barrel. Combined with sloppy vineyard and cellar work, many wines were unapproachable in their youth and too dried out as they aged. Old Barolo tasted like old Rioja tasted like old Burgundy because they all suffered from a lack of charm and a raspy dryness that critics found a complex and profound experience. White wines had wild doses of sulfur that remained potent 30 years later. Many of the red wines were not far behind.

The natural wine movement in these regions is trying to bring the fruit back into wines. Michel Rolland and other gurus also confronted this situation by looking for extraction that would be big, plentiful and potent for those who enjoy a knock across their head. But the more charming, truly hedonistic way forward is to keep a core purity of fruit that evolves and changes, making the wine beautiful young and beautiful but different when old. Not an easy task.

Wine is complicated. What exactly is a natural wine? For me, it’s a wine that tastes like it fell off the vine and into a bottle, fermented, packed its bags and arrived in America.

Of course, no such thing can happen. But the closer we can get to that sensation, the happier we will all be with the wines we drink.

Until then, I will occasionally write silly, generalized articles based on no science and no clear rules about my love for natural wines. I’ll also drink wines from Marcel Lapierre, Stefano Bellotti, Antoine Arena, Marcel Richaud, Dominique Hauvette, Marc Ollivier, Agnès & René Mosse, Jean Foillard, Christian Binner, Paolo Bea, Pierre-Marie Chermette, Philippe Pacalet, Dard & Ribo, the Puzelats, Roussel & Barrouillet and an occasional Clos-St-Hune to prove I’m not dogmatic.

Joe Dressner
Badge Carrying Member of the AVN (Association des Vins Naturels)

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: I finish that post about Dard et Ribo with Linecook415 that fell by the wayside due to me getting sick; or: VLM was WRONG (Day 30.2) and a coda to this entire thing.

Day 30.1: Yeast

•July 20, 2009 • 30 Comments

latecomer Ed Thralls over Wine Tonite! is figuring out the whole natural wine thing and wanted in on the proceedings, so i had do some research on yeast. Enjoy!

Part of the natural wine movement is one of the ongoing philosophical battles regarding the question to inoculate the must/juice with a starter culture of wine yeast or to allow the native, or “wild,” yeast to do its thing all by itself, with minimal to no human intervention.

Wild yeast is believed by some to enhance quality and certain characteristics of the wine. To be more specific, it is said to reflect the particular vineyard’s character in the wine more closely. This has to assume that the vineyard has some fairly distinctive qualities to begin with. For example, bacteria, which often accompany native flora, have a higher chance to take over during the longer fermentation, so the fruit will need good acid and good tannic structure to help battle this situation because native yeasts will be less tolerable to SO2. A wild yeast fermentation takes longer to start since the quantity of yeast in the vineyard and on the berries will be much less than when inoculated, will take longer to finish and will do so at a generally lower temperature. On a positive note, longer and slower fermentations can allow the yeast to have more of an impact on the fermentation adding enhanced texture and finesse to the wine. This is due to the fact that, in addition to converting sugar to alcohol, yeast also produces esters and compounds that contribute to flavor and aroma.

But, what is wild yeast, really? Most feel they aren’t really wild at all, but rather the well-known Saccharomyces that has set up residence in the winery or in the vineyard, often as a result of winery hygiene habits or pomace being recycled back amongst the vines. Regardless, native yeast is less predictable, less consistent and can often result in off-odors and flavors. Yeah, we all know, what might be off for me or you may taste like gold to someone else. Check out my post about petrol aromas caused by TDN in Riesling for another example.

On the other hand, fermentations inoculated directly with Saccharomyces increase the winemaker’s confidence that fermentations actually start and complete, are expedited in a timely manner, and are more predictable. This is mostly due to its tolerance to high alcohol and SO2 and its minimal negative by-products. These fermentations also will fun faster and often much hotter than those of native yeast. When you think about the investment and economics of growing and making wine this seems like a better insurance policy.

In an effort to see if I could distinguish the impact of wild yeast in natural wines, I tasted two fairly well-known offerings and compared them with wines of the same varietal, vintage and region but made with inoculated wine yeast. Note: this by no means was a scientific study, so draw your own conclusions. I just needed an excuse to drink some more wine. [Like that’s necessary]

2007 Edmeades Zinfandel Mendocino – This wine was very, very much fruit-forward on the nose that was almost “sweet,” but not in the residual sugar meaning, of course. There was absolutely no heat on the nose even though the ABV was a whopping 15.2%. The taste brought forth some very big blackberries, vanilla and medium spice at the finish. Overall, this was very smooth, velvety and full of fruit. The comparable wine displayed a lot of heat (15% ABV) and chocolate on the nose and was very smoky, jammy and finished with much bigger spice on the palate.

2006 Yangarra Shiraz McLaren Vale Single Vineyard – Right off the bat it was like I dove head first into a rosemary bush and got a few sprigs shoved up my snoz. I love rosemary and it’s a very distinctive aroma of the Syrah grape. Add that with some black olives and this was getting very interesting, indeed. The taste was also herbaceous with black fruit, slight minerality and medium spice on the finish. That was awesome! [Think The Chris Farley Show on SNL] The comparable wine from the same region displayed lavender, spice, blackberry and chocolate on the nose. The taste brought on more black fruit, jam with a shit ton of more spice, but a fabulous mouth feel, like you grew hair on the tongue.

So, were the fruitiness and distinct varietal characteristics of the natural wines due to the native yeast? Think about the Zinfandel where both contained 15% alcohol, yet I could only detect the heat on the faster/hotter fermenting wine yeast. Or think about the highly distinctive varietal characteristics of the Shiraz. Did the slower/cooler native yeast fermentation allow the yeast to pull more of these attributes from the fruit? I think I’ll need to do some more studying on this topic.

Ultimately, this sounds like the classic risk/reward scenario, where the significant economic risks of a stuck fermentation, off-odors and off-flavors are believed to be outweighed by the reward of more significant vineyard characteristics, elegant texture, pride in following a principle of less human intervention and marketability of the product to others sharing the same principles.

Yeast is as yeast does.

Cheers!

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: Dard et Ribo with Linecook415; or: VLM was WRONG (Day 30.2)

Day 29: What are You Drinking? A lazy sunday post.

•July 20, 2009 • 1 Comment

We’ve been drinking some great things here, chez saignée, but i haven’t had a chance to post about them. So here a little essay featuring some of our favorites from the past few weeks. this is a double post from both me and co-blogger Chris Osborn. It’s late in the day because of the party last night, so sue me.

Thierry Puzelat – 2007 Clos du Tue Boeuf Cheverny Rouge Rouillon
I was writing this post just as Putnam Weekley sent me this video he made. I think it was fated to be.

Jean Maupertuis – “la Guillaume” Vin de Table Francaise

10.5% alcohol? Are you fucking kidding me? i could drink this wine all day. i wish it came in magnums. Nay, boxes. Nay, barrels. This is a strange little (super)natural wine that one can correctly use that obnoxious term “quaffable.” Made from 100% gamay from the Cotes d’Auvergne in France and displaying all of the fresh fruit that grape has come to be known for i am declaring this my “natural wine of the summer.”

ps. This is the wine that was described as being very “Alice Feiring” when i bought it.

COS – Cerasuolo di Vittoria

i was about to write about how making pasta was one of those “zen” inducing activities and how relaxing it all is and the other typical new-agey bullshit until i thought about it for a minute and decided that was all wrong. Making pasta is time consuming, frustrating, dirty work (for me at least). It is also very rewarding when finished and i think i’m confusing this satisfaction with relaxation.

i had some friends, both new and old, over for lasagna the other night and decided in the spirit of natural i would make everything from scratch. Pasta, sauce, bechamel, everything. Also in the spirit of things i decided to retry a wine that i could never get into when tasting it divorced from food, a magnum of COS Cerasuolo di Vittoria.

i’ve never gotten COS until this bottle. COS are Sicilian winemakers known primarily for making exceedingly light wines in a climate that would favor heavier, dumber wine, and aging some of them in clay amphorae. Made entirely from a blend of indigenous Sicilian grape varieties frappato and nero d’avola this wine comes across as an especially piquant pinot noir, smooth cored with a rustic spiced edge. Gotten together with the lasagna it was perfect. In fact the pairing wasn’t even dissectable it was so perfect, it was as if the wine and the food should never be served apart.

Catherine et Pierre Breton – Bourgueil Trinch!
Maxime-François Laurent – Il Fait Soif 2007 Côtes du Rhône
Domaine Maestracci – E Prove Blanc 2008

Where the hell would we be without Kermit Lynch? Whenever lost in an unfamiliar wine store, we wine geeks invariably do the same thing. Start turning over bottles of wine to find a familiar importer, to find something from one of maybe five or six people who have put together a portfolio with enough care that picking a bottle with their logo on it is a sure indicator of quality. There is Louis/Dressner, Jenny and Francois, Neal Rosenthal, Jose Pastor and a few others, but it was Kermit’s little black and white label that must have started the whole trend.
Two weeks ago I went for a short visit to Kermit’s Berkeley store to chat with Kemit’s new online presence manager (is that a real job? i think i just made it up) Clark Terry and of course to buy a few things. i chose a range of things, from the tried and true of Breton’s cabernet franc, to a odd little carbonic Rhone wine (the il fait soit) and a super budget wine in the Corsican E Prove Blanc.
These three represent for me why someone would trust Kermit’s label enough to buy a wine just based on the importer. That an importer who brings in Raveneau, Clape, Tempier, and Vieus Telegraphe would get excited about an 11 dollar corsican wine makes me happy for the future. It is nce to know that someone is out there finding naturally funky loire valley gems and carbonic Rhones that need an explanation on technique before they are sold.

Domaine de Montrieux – Verre des Poetes

Made from 70+ year old ungrafted pineau d’aunis vines and made in the most natural style possible. This is the feminine pineau d’aunis to the more masculine Belliviere. Semi-carbonic, light, herbaceous, impossibly thoughtful wonderful stuff. A wine that makes you love wine again.

Audrey et Christian Binner – Saveurs Printanières

Binner wines are the James Brown of natural wine. They are the epitome of FUNK. Moments after my fiancée got the near her nose she exclaimed “STINKY OLD MAN FEET!” Oh yes. Sweet, sweet, stinky old man feet. And honey. And do not get me wrong, that is a wonderful thing. Wines like Binner are what make Alsace a great home for singularly odd white wines (Domain Ostertag being another favorite). And this is just what I’m looking for these days. New for new’s sake. Stuff that pushes the boundaries of what I know to be wine. And there is no better way to find this stuff than chasing the “natural” dragon.

From what I can gather, Binner is just about as hands-off as you can get. Start with two decades without the use of chemical. Plow and tend careful by hand. Harvest late. Crush and produce slowly with patience (3 Cups). All the careful work results in wine that has no peer. In this instance, we’re dealing with a blend of Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Muscat and Gewurtraminer and no frickin’ idea what vintage. This is also an unfiltered wine, and in this case by unfiltered, I mean opaque.

The Gewurtraminer drops some characteristic apple, but that’s probably the only “normal” thing about it. Light, effervescent acid trips our your tongue and then morphs into the aforementioned apple paired with meringue cookie. Things finish with a quick hint of cream and vanilla and a ridiculously long, musty after-glow. Fucking awesome. More plz.

Enologica Temera – Alodio, Mencia, Ribeira Sacra, Spain

I don’t know much about these guys other than they make some of the rustic natural wine coming out of Spain right now. Floral, peppery notes. This wine remids me of the old velvet seats at the Tower movie theatre in Salt Lake, Rough in some spots, smooth in others, comfortable from years and years of Wong Kar Wai viewings and Rocky Horror fans. This is a wine that takes you back to a time you’re not sure ever existed.

So readers, the question is, what have you been drinking?

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: Dard et Ribo with Linecook415; or: VLM was WRONG

Day 28: California’s L’Enfant Terrible

•July 18, 2009 • 3 Comments

Philly cycling enthusiast, wine lover, blogger, gourmand, and all around nice guy David McDuff had a chance to interview winemaker Mike Dashe, who last year began making a completely sans soufre zinfandel, l’enfant terrible. It is hopefully a new start for a grape that has progressively gotten bigger, riper and more messed with. Enjoy!

While answering Cory’s call for contributions to 31 Days of Natural Wine was easy, coming up with what to write about took a little more work. Rather than dipping into the archives or revisiting a long familiar producer, I decided to push my own envelope a bit, to write about something at least a little outside of my Eurocentric norm, something where I could learn a little too. And then it came to me. I’d had a nice chat with Michael Dashe of Dashe Cellars at a Michael Skurnik portfolio tasting earlier this year. Mike’s wines had left me with a very favorable impression, an impression that’s been supported by subsequent experiences with several of his wines at the dinner table. So a few emails and phone calls later, the following interview was born.

DMcD: To get us started, would you tell us a little about yourself and about Dashe Cellars?

MDashe: Dashe Cellars is a husband and wife (and a French-American) winemaking team—we were married and started the winery in the same year, 1996. Our idea was to make balanced, complex wines from distinctive vineyards, using as natural as possible winemaking techniques. We’ve grown into a 9000 case winery located in an urban setting, in Oakland.

Together, Anne and I have quite a bit of winemaking experience. I worked for over eight years as assistant winemaker at Ridge Vineyards, and worked short stints at Chateau Lafite-Rothschild, Cloudy Bay, Far Niente, Schramsberg, and Roudin-Smith wineries. Anne is a University of Bordeaux-trained winemaker who worked at Château La Dominique, Chappellet Winery, and Remy-Martin in Napa (Carneros Alambic).

DMcD: Given the scope of Cory’s “31 Days” project, what’s your take on “naturalness” in the context of wine?

MDashe: We’ve always been believers in non-intrusive winemaking—we make wine without getting in the way of the purity of the flavors, and we have since we started the winery 13 years ago. I use native yeasts to conduct fermentations, use low levels of SO2, don’t mask flavors with new oak, and don’t manipulate wine unduly. I’m against “industrial” winemaking techniques with which the goal is to make consistent wines at the cost of individuality and complexity.

That said, we’re not dogmatic about natural winemaking. I’ve tasted many, many wonderful natural wines, but I’ve also tasted natural wines that taste like a poorly run experiment. We feel the goal should be to make the most authentic wine possible by selecting great vineyard sites and not getting in the way of the flavors, but also to make well-made wines.

DMcD: Though I know you produce Cabernet Sauvignon, Grenache, Riesling, etc… I tend to think of Dashe Cellars as specializing in Zinfandel. Why Zin? Or am I wrong to think that?

MDashe: We do specialize in Zinfandel. When I was working at Ridge Vineyards I met some great growers of Zinfandel, most of who were working with old-vine fruit. Some of our vineyards are 80+ years old—it’s really a privilege to work with fruit like that. I’ve always felt that Zinfandel can make incredible wines when grown correctly and not harvested too ripe. I’m on a personal quest to make Zinfandel-based wines that can stand on the world stage as great wines that have wonderful personality and can age well. Call me crazy, but it can be done.

DMcD: How did the time you spent at Ridge influence your decision to go it on your own, and how, if at all, does it continue to guide your winemaking decisions?

MDashe: I owe a tremendous debt to Ridge Vineyards and Paul Draper for exposing me to a wide variety of fruit sources and to traditions of natural winemaking. I think Paul is an innately soulful winemaker, who completely respects his vineyards and is one of the great proponents of natural winemaking in the US. After 8 ½ years working at Ridge, I wanted to go out on my own – mostly because I didn’t want to be the oldest assistant winemaker in California. Paul Draper was extremely supportive of my creating my own winery. And yes, I use many techniques I used at Ridge for my own winemaking style—things like using native yeast, submerged-cap fermentations, techniques to limit tannin extraction from seeds, etc.

DMcD: You’re in the distinct minority in California in choosing to ferment all of your wines (if I’m not mistaken) on their native/ambient yeasts. What inspired that decision? Do you ever use cultured yeasts? If so, why?

MDashe: I do use native yeast fermentations, almost exclusively. At Ridge Vineyards almost everything is fermented on native yeast, and I felt the results were dramatically positive. I started Dashe Cellars using native yeast fermentations. There have been times in the past when all the grapes were coming into the winery at once, due to vintage conditions, and if I absolutely had to have tanks available I would inoculate with yeast so that fermentation would finish and I’d have a tank available. That never happens now, because we have more fermentation space. We’ve purchased enough tanks (and I’m using these wonderful 900-gallon foudres made from French oak) so that I no longer need to force tank space. So now we’re a 100% native yeast winery.

DMcD: It may be fair to say that you’ve received more attention from natural wine aficionados for “L’Enfant Terrible” than for the rest of your wines combined. First of all, tell us about “L’Enfant.” What first inspired you to produce it? Does the attention it gets frustrate you at all?

MDashe: One of the nice things about being around for a while is that you can make a wine for yourself—to make a wine that you think would be a great wine to drink—and not worry that it will drag down the winery because it might not sell. We know that people out there trust us to make wines that are interesting, and our customers are willing to try new things from us because they have faith in our winemaking abilities.

L’Enfant Terrible came out of our desire to make a wine that was like the wines we love from Europe, that are complex, soft, balanced, lovely, wonderful wines to go with food. Anne and I love higher acid, lower alcohol wines from Europe and wanted to see if we could make something that was more like a wine from Morgon or Fleurie. We were encouraged by friends like Mark Ellenbogen, the wine director of The Slanted Door (in San Francisco). Mark had mostly European wines on his list, because he felt that the cuisine didn’t go well with a lot of Californian wines. He called me out of the blue and asked if I thought I could find an organic Zinfandel vineyard that could make (for lack of a better term) a “more European-style” wine like those I knew he liked. I had just the previous day been visiting high up in the hills of Mendocino County, where I get my organic Riesling, and had seen a very unusual Zin vineyard. I tasted the grapes and they had great flavor (and very little color!) and had thought it would make an unusual wine. After getting the call from Mark, it seemed to all come together. I called the grower on the spot and told him I’d buy the entire lot of Zinfandel. After making it, I thought, “Oh God, what have I done?” It was so opposite of a typical Californian wine that I thought it would be a very difficult wine to understand for most people. To be fair, Anne from the start thought that L’Enfant Terrible was a great wine, and would get a following.

We were shocked at how quickly people seemed to find out about the wine on the Internet. There was a serious amount of interest in the wine, before I had even released it, simply by my showing it to a few journalists and wine lovers in New York and California. A few select people who had a lot of credibility in the wine blogging universe wrote about it—and the wine just took off. We aren’t frustrated at all about the attention given to the wine—it highlights how we make all of our wines.

DMcD: You’re currently purchasing most if not all of your fruit, correct? Do you have plans or ambitions to get into the farming end of the winegrowing cycle at any point in the future?

MDashe: We purchase all of our fruit, and have great relationships with our growers. We work with them in their growing practices. I don’t have any plans to get into the grape growing business unless we purchase, one day, a Loire vineyard. That would interest us—but it’s a bit of a pipedream. Otherwise, it’s just too expensive to consider a vineyard in the US.

DMcD: Where do farming practices fit into the decision making process when you’re considering a relationship with a grower? Do you specifically seek out organic or biodynamic growers?

MDashe: All of our growers are small, family growers. We actively look for certified organic and biodynamic farms—that’s how we found the vineyards for L’Enfant Terrible and the Riesling. We’ve recently located a few biodynamic vineyards and are making wine from them. Most of our other vineyards are sustainably farmed and we are encouraging our growers to seek organic certification if they’re using organic practices. We’ve found that some of our growers who are essentially farming organically do not want to go through the process to get certified, either because they don’t want to go through a long process, or because they feel it ties their hands too much.

DMcD: There’s only one white wine in your current production portfolio. Why Riesling? (Not that I’m complaining.)

MDashe: We looked for years for white varietals that have enough acidity to satisfy us and finally after quite a while we found this Riesling vineyard in the mountains of Mendocino. California has so many hot regions—we hadn’t found many white vineyards that were cool enough for us. We like to have a good acid balance to make white wine. We’re trying to find some colder region grapes, but we may have to go out of state to get them.

DMcD: We’ve talked about yeast, so I’m sure you’ve already anticipated a question about the other big bugaboo – sulfur. What are your thoughts about sulfur (in its various forms) and what approach do you take with it at Dashe?

MDashe: We have quite low sulfur levels in all of our wines—in the bottle we often have almost no detectable sulfur. We add some sulfur at the crusher, so that non-Saccharomyces yeasts and bacteria can’t start fermenting strongly before the correct yeasts take hold. During fermentation, virtually all of the sulfur is used up. We then add either none or extremely low levels during aging. We certainly use less SO2 than the vast majority of winemakers, in the US or anywhere else, for that matter.

DMcD: As long as we’re there…. What about acid adjustment, dealcoholization, enzymes and all the other various and sundry adjuncts and engineering techniques commonplace in contemporary winemaking? Are they all crutches? Or do you find any of them useful or necessary to your winemaking regime?

MDashe: Again, we don’t use most techniques to change or modify wines—we don’t use enzymes or other chemical agents, and we virtually never have added acid. I can taste added acid in wines, and I dislike the flavor intensely. We stick to our natural winemaking techniques, but it’s silly to allow a wine to go bad in the name of natural winemaking. Taking a vow to never use technology is like taking a vow to never use medicine. I take Advil when I have a headache, and I take the steps I need to in the few times that I have a problematic wine. But we never use technology to enhance a wine, or to make a wine taste identical to a previous vintage, or to concentrate a wine to make it more likely to get a high score. That’s just not our style.

DMcD: If there’s a victim that’s taken more than its share of abuse in the current backlash regarding overblown wines, it would seem to be oak – particularly small and/or new barrels. Your thoughts? What guides your decisions in choosing appropriate vessels for fermentation and aging?

MDashe: As I’ve gotten older and become a more experienced winemaker, I’ve found myself using less and less oak, and getting almost completely away from new oak. It doesn’t go with our style of winemaking.

I’m very sensitive to oak. For the past two years I haven’t bought any new oak at all, because I just don’t like the flavor of new oak in our wines. I buy one- or two-year old oak barrels from good white wine producers, so that I can have oak aging, without the overwhelming flavors of new oak. Also, I’m a huge proponent now of larger oak cooperage, so that I can age wine and get complex flavors without any overt oak flavors. I now have three 900 gallon foudres and am planning on buying at least one every year for the next few years, so that I can greatly increase the effect of these large oak barrels on the wines. Not only does it decrease the oak flavors, but it also seems to increase the exposure of the wine to yeast (almost like lees stirring) so that we get more complex flavors and softer wines. The L’Enfant Terrible and most of my wines now never see new oak.

DMcD: Do you feel that your wines tend to be overlooked by the mainstream wine press? If so, why?

MDashe: Yep. I think that it’s natural for wine judges—including journalists—to become attracted to big, ripe wines when tasting many wines in a row. More subtle, balanced wines—which include Dashe Cellars wines—can get overwhelmed by big wines in large judgings. That being said, we still have gotten many, many positive reviews. In fact, most reviews have been positive. We are very pleased that some of the journalists that we respect the most—Eric Asimov of the New York Times is one that comes to mind—have been very complimentary about the wines. We decided a long time ago that we wouldn’t chase scores—it wasn’t our style of wine that would garner 98 point scores from mainstream wine magazines. It’s not a condemnation; it’s just a fact. So we just concentrated on our style, which we felt was creating complex, balanced, interesting wines. And we feel that our customer base has quietly grown.

DMcD: What lies ahead for Dashe Cellars? Any plans to expand or venture into new territories?

MDashe: We’re comfortable with our size. In the biggest years, we’re about 10,000 cases, which is more than large enough for us. If we were to grow bigger, we’d have to hire more people and spend our time managing instead of winemaking. Our size is perfect to be able to taste and blend all of the wines and make a living at winemaking.

We are expanding our lineup slightly to include some new varietals such as Grenache, Petite Sirah, and Mourvedre. We want to do more wines in the same vein as L’Enfant Terrible, since we feel we really struck a nerve with people who are willing to drink wines that are out of the mainstream. Journalists have asked me if I think that it’s an extremely small group of people who are willing to consider a wine like L’Enfant Terrible. I think it’s really a movement of people away from the huge, black, inky wines that have made the big scores in the mainstream press. As American tastes become more sophisticated, and they taste more and more wine with food, we feel they’ll want more balanced wines and will be able to differentiate complexity from intensity.

DMcD: I understand you’re in France at the moment. Pure pleasure, or will you be doing wine research while you’re there? Any regions or producers you’re particularly interested in visiting?

MDashe: We love being in France—Anne’s family lives in Brittany on the south coast, and we visit here every year. My kids (we have 9- and 10-year old girls) speak French and we want them to experience some country life in France during the summers.

We try to visit at least one wine region every year, although we end up in the Loire Valley (because we love it) and in Bordeaux (because we have friends that live there) more often than not. We’ve become friends with some great winemakers by meeting them through Joe and Denise Dressner (importers whose portfolio of wines we really respect), and try to visit the wineries, taste wines, and talk about winemaking.

DMcD: More importantly (grin), will you get to see any of the Tour de France while you’re there?

MDashe: Been watching it as much as possible. A number of years ago, it came through Anne’s town, and we waited hours to watch the few seconds of the racers zipping by. Very exciting.

Michael and I had both hoped to do a little follow-up after this first round of questions but he is in France after all, and vacation calls. He and Anne are off to the Loire, where they’ll be visiting François Pinon and Huet in Vouvray; François Chidaine in Montlouis; Catherine and Pierre Breton in Chinon and Bourgueil; Nicolas Joly and Domaine du Closel in Savennières; and Marc Olivier in Muscadet country. Now that’s my kind of trip. I look forward to talking (and learning) more with Michael when they return stateside. Until then, cheers!

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: What the hell have i been drinking?; or: A lot

LAST REMINDER: 31 Days party at Terroir. Tonight, Saturday. 7. BE THERE. Everyone is invited; readers, contributers, me, everyone.

Day 27: Natural Wine, Natural Pie #2

•July 17, 2009 • 9 Comments

Wolfgang Weber and Jon Bonné are both San Francisco wine writers, with Wine&Spirits and the San Francisco Chronicle respectively. They are also wine bloggers (Spume and The Cellarist) as well as friends. Here they teamed like Steven Seagal and Jean Claude van Damme in that movie i imagined was made (just with less ponytails and kicking and more pizza and wine) for a two day post. Enjoy!
Like the Rockettes of Natural Wine
Jon: Dough in hand and toppings ready, we assembled our lineup of wines. The selection in this case was a bit of “what goes with pizza?” with quite a lot of “what do we feel like drinking?” — which in almost all cases, trumps whatever other pairing logic might present itself.

Mostly, it was just a series of wines we had in our collections or went out to buy, having found them delicious before. We wanted whites, reds, sparkling and even a rosé, in this case a Beaujolais rosé, endorsed by our pals at Terroir.

Wolfgang: We also realized that between the wine and 8 or so dough balls, we would need some additional mouths to feed (thanks again for coming Cory!). So we met up at my place last week, prepped dough and various toppings – and tucked into a feast.

mmmmmm

And this wouldn’t be a 31 Days post without a few wines mentioned, so here’s what we settled on.

Jon’s Group

2006 Francois Pinon Non-Dosé Vouvray Brut (Importer: Louis/Dressner
Selections)

There are natural wines you adhere to out of virtue or hipness, and there are wines you simply find yourself loving over and over again. Francois Pinon’s wines are like that for me. Pinon is a former child psychologist who has chosen the limestone and flint soils of Vouvray as his muse. His slightly sweet Vouvrays are eloquent, but my obsession is with his sparkling wine, notably his undosed vintage Brut, which also has the benefit of a label so mod it makes me want to put on Serge Gainsbourg, plus the coolest cork cap ever [link: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/blogs/wine/detail?blogid=54&entry_id=30956], akin to gawking at a Brueghel on shrooms. I asked Pinon about the cap last time he was in town. He was either feigning ignorance or was in no mood to divulge its origins.

This is all Chenin Blanc, vintage dated and made with a presumed austerity and without most of the usual yeasty tinkering. But as always, Pinon sneaks Chenin’s phantom sweetness in amid the frothy austerity. Gorgeous, eloquent and utterly without artifice, it’s a pure sparkling expression of mineral intensity. We paired a magnum of Pinon’s 2004 with gefilte fish for Passover; rarely have I found a more harmonious match. Though the 2006 with a mushroom and arugula pizza certainly stepped to the plate.

2001 Luc Massy Sous Les Rocs Saint-Saphorin (Importer: Robert Chadderdon)
First, yes, it’s Swiss. In this case from the commune of Saint-Saphorin in the Lavaux district, situated in the canton (state) of Vaud between the towns of Lausanne and Montreux, along the northeast banks of Lake Geneva. These stepped sandstone vineyards are among the most picturesque in the world, with climate moderate by the lake influence. The grape here is Chasselas, relegated to third-class status most anywhere in the world except Switzerland, where its unremarkably fruit traits channel extraordinary mineral definition. The vintner is Luc Massy, whose family has farmed the slopes near the town of Epesses for over a century.

In truth, Saint-Saphorin is not his most profound wine, or even a Grand Cru in the admittedly esoteric Swiss ranking system. (His Epesses and Dezaley Chemin de Fer are the heavy hitters.) But it retains a freshness — the 2004 is particularly snappy and precise right now — that speaks to the potential of Chasselas in the marginal growing conditions of the Vaud. There’s admittedly little information about Massy’s winemaking, but they are firm traditionalists and the wines are unmarred by evident intervention.

In this case, the 2001 — even when decanted — was just slightly underperfoming. Notably waxy with almond notes, and a distinct mineral overtone, the Chasselas seemed to have matured a touch fast, especially since its otherwise neutral nature finds depth at five or more years. Was there a bit of botrytis this year? It seemed to be doing a Chenin impression, and given how spectacular the Massy wines are, we were puzzled. Still, its curious fecund nature made a happy pair with the mushrooms.

2004 Heinrich Mayr Nusserhof Riserva Sudtirol Lagrein (Importer: Louis/Dressner) Mayr’s estate in the town of Bolzano, in Alto Adige, dates back to at least 1788. The Mayr wines are always a rarity — from six certified organic acres surrounded by a wall — but a worthy one. The Nusserhof ought to be a benchmark for Lagrein. It opens raucously, with a shot of violet and forest debris, and then brings in black pepper and brooding berry notes. This is the advanced-level course in Lagrein, no barrique or fussing to temper it for timid palates. If Lagrein is more at home with game meat, it certainly comes to a pizza party willing to play. If only we’d decanted it earlier in the day.

2000 Marcel Deiss Gruenspiel Alsace (Importer: New Castle Imports)
What is it about Deiss that seems to irk natural wine folk? Is it the price? The acceptance in the mainstream world? Some strange Alsace animosity? I adore Jean-Michel Deiss’ wines, not only for the quality but notably for Deiss’ overt commitment to terroir. His “vins de terroir” receive only their vineyard name, intended to reflect the soils, site and specific blend for each location. Gruenspiel, a south-facing amphitheater in the town of Bergheim, is planted to Riesling, Pinot Noir (vinified white) and Gewurztraminer.

Even at nine years old, this specimen was still too young, slightly dominated by the gloss and sugar of the Gewurztraminer. Opulent citrus and spice notes kept returning, the sort of thing that begged for seafood, but if some other Deiss wines might peak at a decade (the eloquent Engelgarten, for instance) the Gruenspiel still needed time to dry out and firm up.

That said, we put it with our sourdough take on a flammekuche, the traditional Alsatian onion tart, and the Gruenspiel found itself a happy corner in which to hang, rolling its eyes at all the Italians.

http://www.marceldeiss.com/html/index.php?page=231&page_id=8

Wolfgang’s Group

I’m often at a loss trying to explain natural wines to people who might not otherwise pay attention to debates over style in the wine world. And really, most people don’t care. They just want something that tastes good. Happily, save for some extreme cases, naturally made wines are often the most approachable available.

So beyond farming practices and a non-interventionist philosophy in the cellar, there’s a lose definition, or understanding, that I keep coming back to: wines of modesty, showing a transparency of flavor that feels honest. Those traits make for delicious and nourishing wine.

Pierre-Marie Chermette 2008 Beaujolais Rosé ‘Les Griottes’ Rosé (Importer: Weygandt-Metzler)
I picked this up after trying it at Terroir last week for the whopping price of around $16. Rosé how I like it, without a lot of fruit sweetness, a balance of wild strawberries with orange zest and a zippy, minerally finish. Long and delicious, it was a lovely foil to several pizzas that night, especially the one topped with goat cheese. Pierre-Marie Chermette makes some of my favorite Beaujolais – look for the Cuvee Traditionelle Vieilles Vignes (very drinkable) or their Fleurie (more complex, needs some time) – but I hadn’t had their rosé before. Delightful, and the best pink wine I’ve had all year.

Olivier Cousin 2006 Pur Breton Anjou (Importer: Jenny & Francois Selections)
Here’s a truly funky wine. There’s a little troglodyte on the label riding an anchor Dr. Strangelove style and maybe that tells you something right there. This needed time to come together; with air it balanced savory, earthy character with ripe raspberry flavor. It felt silky and long (the texture was glorious in fact), and the tannins felt like fruit-skin and stem tannin more than anything else. Well-structured and fairly complex – ultimately rewarding if you’re willing to be patient with that funkiness. Or if that’s you’re thing, then bring it. Olivier Cousin’s vineyards are certified biodynamic by Demeter and he doesn’t add sulfur, sugar, etc. A lot of the Jenny & Francois wines aren’t available on the West Coast (hopefully this will change), but this is worth tracking down. I picked it up in New York.

Bartolo Mascarello 2006 Dolcetto d’Alba (Importer: Robert Chadderdon Selections)
Absolutely lovely. I’m biased with this producer, already infatuated with the Barolo. But Mascarello’s Barbera and Dolcetto are both wines to look for. This ’06 Dolcetto, a portion of which is grown in the Monrobiolo, a cru just east of the commune of Barolo, home to the Mascarello cellar is silky and fine, with a depth and clarity of flavor that’s stunning. Classy stuff.

Bartolo Mascarello (well, now his daughter, Maria Teresa) would have described himself as a traditionalist rather than a natural wine producer. Still, the wines conform to a type espoused by the naturalistas and in fact Mascarello is one of the founding members of Vini Veri, a group of Italian winemakers working with natural viticulture and methods.

Conclusions, such as we can make them.

On the pizza:

Jon: Since we didn’t make side-by-side pizzas from the dough, rather alternating them, it’s impossible to know exactly how the dough terroir unfolded. I found a bit more crispness and lightness in the Hayes Valley dough, though the Pac Heights dough had a crusty sourdough density that was enjoyable, if more like pain levain than pizza dough.

Because we both had some issues with seeding and yeasting the dough, I’d frankly want another experiment before I’m convinced — which is why I have another starter sitting on my counter already (and taking its sweet damn time to rise). I’d also like a better control on temperature, since our usually 62-degree kitchen seems a touch cold to create a warm, happy dough rise.

Wolfgang: While tending the starter, then the mother and then setting aside the several hours needed to make the dough (and let it rest), I felt like suddenly I had a pet – or rather, countless microbial yeasty pets – looking after it, feeding it and hoping for the best possible results pretty much commanded my attention during this whole process. I would catch myself at odd hours wondering how my dough was doing at that moment. Had it kicked off yet? Was it healthy?

Jon: The science of wine fermentation is obviously much more complex, since an ambient yeast fermentation is hardly the “using the vineyard yeast found on the grapes” claptrap that’s sometimes advanced. It’s an unpredictable combination of the Saccharomyces cerevisiae found on the grapes and stems, the indigenous yeasts in the winery and fermenter, whatever’s in the air, on the truck that brought the grapes, the bin that carried them and so on. One argument from proponents of a closed estate system — you make the wine where you grow the grapes — is that the yeasts are somewhat more localized.

Perhaps the best lesson from the pizza half came each time I opened the fridge door and stared at the jar of Red Star that usually begins my dough-making process. On a good day, with a teaspoon of cultivated commercial yeast, I can have pizza dough in two hours, certainly overnight. When trying to coax the apparently stubborn yeasts of my apartment, even a week wasn’t quite sufficient — and suddenly I understood why bakers refresh their dough mothers routinely and keep them well fed. Crucial lesson learned: Never disregard your mother.

I also realized how strong the temptation must be for winemakers to eye their own jars of Red Star, especially when fermentation is slogging along or grinding to a halt. Even natural winemakers have means to game the system — old fermented lees, early-harvest verjus and so on. The commitment to ambient yeasts means placing your trust in one of nature’s more unruly and uncontrollable processes, and in a wine world increasingly leaning toward logic and science, that’s a bold step to take.

On the wines:

On balance, our collection was perhaps a bit less esoteric than it might have been, certainly by the standards of some of Cory’s other contributors. (That said, Jon did bring some remnants of Frank Cornelissen wines from Etna he had been tasting, just in case we needed a multiple on the geek factor.)

Part of this was deliberate. As we said yesterday, fetishization seems to go hand in hand with natural wines, but what will help best evangelize for natural winemaking is for regular wine drinkers to realize that some bottles they already love, and find on their local store shelves, are being made this way. Some are admittedly obscure — you have to be pretty committed to drink Beaujolais Rosé though honestly everyone should be — but wines like those from Deiss or Mascarello make their own case for greatness without brandishing natural credentials.

One way to interpret that? Devoted winemakers are increasingly choosing methods like ambient yeast fermentations or biodynamics because they’re committed to improving their wines, not because there’s a current marketing cachet. And that’s why it was heartening to see how few of these wines were marked with anything that gave away their natural cred – not that there’s anything wrong with a Demeter or certified organic icon on the label, but when it’s not there, it allows the wine to speak on its own terms, without a presumption of virtue.

Which circles back to our original theme. Wine – especially naturally made, modest wines – always works better in context. And if we could use context as an excuse to make a lot of pizza, what’s not to like?

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Work.

Up next: An interview with Mike Dashe; or: Mike Mike, Mike Dashe

REMEMBER: Terroir tommorow @ 7 until close! Come meet me and hopefully some contributors! Buy and drink some good wine! Tide yourself over with Co-Blogger & Floor Model DJ Chris Osborn’s latest Mix HERE! Exclamation!

Day 26: Natural Wine, Natural Pie #1

•July 16, 2009 • 2 Comments

Wolfgang Weber and Jon Bonné are both San Francisco wine writers, with Wine&Spirits and the San Francisco Chronicle respectively. They are also wine bloggers (Spume and The Cellarist) as well as friends. Here they teamed like Steven Seagal and Jean Claude van Damme in that movie i imagined was made (just with less ponytails and kicking and more pizza and wine) for a two day post. Enjoy!

Day Minus 11. Generating yeast above the fridge.

Wolfgang: Yeasts and fermentation have interested me since at least high school when I brewed beer for chemistry class (got an A; still had to drink the beer at home). So perhaps more than most aspects or facets behind natural wine, it’s the ambient/native yeast fermentations that intrigue me most – a process that historically speaking is at once understood yet completely mysterious.

When it came to think about what to do for a 31 Days contribution I knew that I wanted to do something with yeasts. I called up Jon and as we talked about ideas we thought hey, let’s team up for a couple of posts. And why not, let’s make pizza while we’re at it. And because he likes to take things to their logical conclusion, Jon suggested making a sourdough (aka, ambient yeast) starter for the dough. Natural wine, natural pizza — although we drew the line at making our own mozzarella. We’ll save that for when Cory does “31 Days of Supernatural Wine.”

(View the entire pizza dough experiment flickrstream HERE)

Jon: The starter/dough recipe came from Peter Reinhart’s “American Pie,”perhaps the best book ever to consider the topic of pizza dough. Reinhart is a baker, and brings a baker’s soul to the task.

What this means, in more practical terms, is a good 10-day lead time before the dough is ready. In our case, we began June 30, about 10 days out. The dough itself is made from a “mother” (a precursor dough with a high level of fermentative activity), but before you can create the mother, you need a seed starter with enough yeast to generate the mother in a timely fashion. Reinhart’s starter begins with high-protein flour and pineapple juice — the acid in the pineapple inhibiting bacterial growth during the first day of yeast propagation. Then you cut the starter in half, add dough and water, and mix back together. (At this point, Wolfgang picked up half of the initial starter run and took it home to Hayes Valley.)

And then you repeat. Several times. Until the dough can double in size within 24 hours, a sign of its fermentation potential.

Due to scheduling, Wolfgang left his starter alone for about four days, while I refreshed mine daily. No matter. Wolfgang returned to find a robust starter, while I finally capitulated and began making the mother around the fifth day. Already, the terroir — at least the yeast-generating potential — was appearing between Hayes Valley and the north end of Pacific Heights. And Hayes Valley was winning the yeasty game.

We both turned our starters into mother dough by adding far more flour and water to create a sort of sponge, which we then watched for signs of fermentation. An uncommonly hot San Francisco day, and my oven-like sunroom, pushed the process along, with small bubbles appearing and a dull warmth permeating the bottom of the bowl. And that, friends, was the sign of fermentation.

Wolfgang: Even with my starter taking off while I was out of town for a few days, I still felt nervous. Not that I can make any claim to sharing this kind of concern, but during the process I kept saying to myself “thank god this isn’t my entire harvest and I’m not waiting for it to just kick off.” That nervousness nagged me through making the mother and later inoculating the dough. Will it work? Or did I just make a big bowl of glue? I didn’t really get relief until I felt the dull warmth on the bowl, and saw the condensation building up under the plastic wrap. And even that wasn’t very reassuring. So, I’ll say it now: Working with ambient yeasts is a nerve-racking experience.

Jon: Of course, natural winemakers can leave their fermentations to progress leisurely, and had we the time to let our ambient yeasts build up, we would have eventually cultured proper fermenting capabilities. (Even if I was gaming the system slightly by warming the starter and mother, not unlike raising the temperature in a winery to activate yeast growth.)

But we had a timeline, and mouths to feed. So at minus 3 days, the mothers needed to be made and the dough produced from them.

Finally, the night of the party, we had two notably different doughs. You can see the differences in the picture below: On the left, Wolfgang’s dough and on the right my dough. They both smelled faintly like San Francisco’s famous sourdough.

A side-by-side comparison.

Wolfgang: Since we had all this time waiting for starters, mothers and doughs to ferment and rise, we began discussing wines. We decided to avoid the iconoclast and over-intellectualized wines for the most part, and instead looked for wines that are meant to go with food (especially pizza). After all, one of the great attractions to natural wine is precisely that the wines themselves are anti-blockbusters, bottles to complement, not clobber.
Swiss wine?  Sure, why not.
Hard to fetishize a wine you’ve never heard of.

Jon: There is a tendency to fetishize natural wines. No surprise there. These are idiosyncratic wines made by idiosyncratic people. Unlike most wines in the world — yeasted like clockwork and made by formula — these are somewhat unruly efforts with colorful, dramatic stories behind them. Hence, fetishization.

Our goal was somewhat different. To us, the point of natural wine – aside from its inherent virtues — is to taste good, to fit seamlessly within wine’s most natural context: at the table. That’s precisely where we were headed.

Day Minus 2. Watching the sourdough mother ferment (look for the bubbles) on a very warm day.
Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: Day 2; or: Day Two

Day 25: Lunar Cycle

•July 15, 2009 • 8 Comments

Johnathon Seeds had an interesting idea for an interesting wine….

Aleš Kristančič of Movia observed that if a ripe grape falls from vine to the earth, it becomes the ideal vessel for winemaking. Yeasts enter through the hole where the stem once attached, fermenting the sugars to create the most natural wine (ever). If left untouched, it would probably develop into vinegar, but Aleš saw the opportunity to step in before that happened, and thus conceived Lunar – an experimental Ribolla Gialla cuvee from a selection of the estate’s oldest vines.

Aleš co-plants a few Pinot Gris vines (which bud earlier) in his Ribolla Gialla vineyards to encourage a longer flowering period.

Movia creates wines on the edge. Literally, the Brda vineyards are on the extreme western slopes of Slovenia, spilling over into Friuli in northeastern Italy. Aleš, the current steward of the estate, speeds through the 30 hectares on his dirt bike. He comes from generations of organic farmers, and personally pushes the envelope with biodynamics, terroir fanaticism and a track record for doing things the natural way as opposed to the easy way.

Flying stones, Brda style

Aleš reconsidered the entire process of winemaking to facilitate this “fallen grape” notion for Lunar. This meant a little more planning and work on the front end to allow nature to do its thing. Movia’s oak barriques – used for its permeability, never for “seasoning” – were fitted with larger bungs, proportionate to the stem hole on the grape if the grape were a barrique. Manually selected whole clusters of Ribolla Gialla are then placed inside, filling the barriques. The bungs are closed, and in the deep Brda cellars, gravity and nature do their task — macerating and fermenting the juice, skins, stems and all. Winemaking. No sulfur is added, and Aleš accepts the result of whatever path the wine takes. If 1-in-50 barrels turn to vinegar, so be it— it’s part of living life with no risks, no rewards. What is left is Lunar.

The Lunar cellar. No cover charge…

The wine is not racked or filtered; over time, nature clarifies the wine by itself. The tidal forces of a new moon naturally settle the musts and sediment. Inversely, the full moon causes the stones (minerals) to fly, which dictates the bottling time and inspired me to open my bottle of 2006 Lunar . . . because yeah, I want as many flying minerals as possible in my wine. . .

The wine poured a hazy amber-orange. It smelled fantastic, attractively sweaty (glowing?) with ruby grapefruit and fresh apricot. On the palate it was joyous and alive – sweet into savory with a tension between the ripeness of the fruit and the cut of acidity and tannin. Crystalline depth. There were dried herbs, orange and cherry blossoms and a liquid rock core that kept gaining strength and focus over time.

The bottom of the barrel…

What struck me was how not how eccentric, extreme or gimmicky it tasted, but how accessible, pure and graceful it was. It wasn’t simple, but had an over-riding unity, an elemental quality – like it couldn’t possibly be broken down any further. I had a similar reaction to a Chateau Musar Rouge a few weeks ago – I called it one-thing-ness – and Lunar has it too, in spades. This wine is about process over product, not that the process defines the wine. It is the wine. No two bottles will ever be the same. When you enjoy one, you experience a glimpse of its total flow of interactions – the individual story that shapes it from vine to glass to palate or (if nature deems it so) vinegar.

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: Day one of the ambient yeast experiment; or: Jon Bonné vs. Wolfgang Weber

Day 24: Guilhaume’s Natural Wine Dogma

•July 14, 2009 • 14 Comments

Guilhaume Gerard is one third of the trio that owns Terroir Natural Wine Merchant in San Francisco. he is French and thus gets the Bastille day post. He almost didn’t post this because of the vitriol it is sure to bring his way. i don’t agree with everything he has to say, but i’m glad he chose to post it. If it makes you angry, go download the mixtape of the summer from Chocolate Bobka.

1- No herbicides, pesticides or any of that Monsanto crap, even once a year.

I always hear the same thing from a lot of different peoples in the wine world:
“If you had a bad year and need to save your crop by spraying, just once, you’ll do it”

How do i feel about that statement?

As far as “natural wine” is concernerned, it’s bullshit. If you understand and respect nature and your costumers, you’ll find a way to learn a lesson from that bad vintage and work your way “naturally” towards a more respectful way of handling difficult situations. I know how it sounds, and i know a whole lot of peoples would disagree with me, but lets just think about what Paolo BEA’s done in 02′ for example, discarded 85% of his grape and made one wine instead of five. One really good wine. Sure, it’s not safe if you need to sell all your wine every vintage to make ends meet, but then, are we talking about good (natural) wine or just any wine?

When i was in ANGER last february, i’ve met a vigneron pouring his wines at the fair. All un-sulfured sauvignon and Gamay from Touraine. Every single wine was tasting amazingly well and i asked him how he managed to attain such purity, flawless wines being tottaly natural?
“I don’t know, the wine makes itself, when it’s good i sell it, when it’s bad i throw it away”
I can only admire what that guy was saying. Too many natural wines are sold as such because they are fucked up. It’s not right. Because you are working as naturally as possible doesn’t mean you can bottle just any disgusting crap and sell it, cheap or expensive, it’s always going to be overpriced. And it gives a bad name to natural wines.

2-No enzymes, dried yeasts, sugar or any additives.

To me, the yeasts issue is simple, if you are inoculating your wines, you might as well make a non vintage. I don’t care it’s not a “flavored” or “designer” yeast. I don’t care if the yeasts in sancerre are sloppy, and it’s hard to ferment sauvignon blanc all the way. Grow pinot, even better, grow chenin blanc for god sake!
Enzymes? I dont know and i’m pretty sure i don’t even want to know what’s that about.
Sugar is definitely the least important as it’s not harmful. Still, if we are talking about natural wines i think chaptalisation should be banned. It’s overused all over burgundy under the pretense that “pinot doesn’t taste good at 12% alcohol”. Again, i’m not here to dictate anything to anyone working their asses off in vineyards and cellars, but PACALET, or DERAIN doesn’t use any sugar and they often make beautiful twelve and a half percent alcohol village or Grand cru wines. They are my favorite burgundy producers, no doubt about it. I think that the fruit is the key, if you understand it, you know when to harvest it and what to make of it. It takes time i’m sure, but it’s the only way to achieve greatness in my opinion.

3-Farming the land. Better wines are coming from peoples understanding there land/fruit.

I don’t like negociants wines much. Some are good, most are barely drinkable market driven juice. I would much rather drink a farmer’s wine. I know, in california and all around the states, there is a trend of winemakers buying whatever fruit and making wine out of it.”we can buy fruit from a 100 years old zinfandel vineyard near lodi”, “My friend just told me about a half a ton of monterey pinot noir”. I want to be a winemaker as well. But it’s not going to happen while i write my blog, run my shop, or live in a city. I cannot seriously pretend to make a wine if i am not here, myself, in the cellar, in the vineyards, everyday it’s needed, let’s say over 300 days of the year?
To me, even the word winemaker is wrong, even the concept of having a winemaker or a
consultant (i’m not talking about a little help from your friends here) is wrong. If you are not in the vineyards, what the hell are you doing in the cellar? I’m often arguing that point. A winemaker and a vineyard manager sounds like a divorced couple to me. The vineyard manager gets to raise the kid for his whole life, and then abandon him. The winemaker, who has never even met the kid, is now in charge of his life. Do this, do that, act like this, go there…… Fuck that!

4- No clones in the vineyard.

It’s kind of a “in a perfect world” kind a dogma, but the clone issue is important to me. I definitely have a lot of respect for peoples like Marc OLLIVIER to name just one ( yes, there are plenty of others) that does not have a single clone in his vineyards. I know it’s more difficult, it takes more time, more attention, it’s prone to diseases and all that. But then, if you just wanted to harvest any fruit, seedless watermelon is a good option.

5-No hybrid grapes

I don’t understand why all those crazy swiss scientists are having so much fun creating new grapes out of a lab… Criminal if you ask me!

6- Tradition

you can be as natural as you want, you still need to respect the region your wine is coming from. I know, the commercial driven mentality in the states would make you believe that it’s fine to grow grapes in the middle of a desert. You just need a little water and a little help from your friends (wells fargo, UC Davis, Monsanto…)

7- Politics

You don’t like my dogma, you can argue on the comment section.
You like it? Join the party!

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: Movia Lunar under the Full Moon; or: i was promised the best drink ever.

Day 23: FRV 100 Rosé Rocks

•July 13, 2009 • 3 Comments

Pameladevi Govinda is a food and wine writer who has written extensively on the subject of natural wine (this article is an excellent starting point).

Jean Paul Brun does fruit like the Black Eyed Peas do dance/pop. In other words there’s nothing too esoteric going on but it gets your feet moving and it hits the spot. I tasted the Terres Dorées FRV 100 Rosé for the first time earlier this year. I didn’t taste mineral, brett or any secondary or tertiary character that I can brag about but I did get a mouthful of pure unadulterated fruit delivered with a gentle, playful fizz. It reminded me of a bowl of summer berries. I had found the perfect vin de soif and I confess this bottle made me want to boogie.

Jean Paul Brun first made his méthode ancestrale FRV 100 (say the name in French and it sounds like “Effervescent”) rosé in 2002 after taking a liking to Alain Renardat’s [of Domaine Renardat-Fâche] excellent Cerdon du Bugey. The still wine was fermented in tank and got its cherry-hue from the saignée method. Like the cerdon méthode ancestrale wines, FRV has residual sweetness because it was bottled before fermentation was complete. And here’s where it stands apart from traditional method sparkling – the second fermentation is spontaneous using only the lees from the first fermentation. And did I mention that it’s only 7.5% alc? I’m having this with breakfast, for aperitif and when I’m in the mood for Black Eyed Peas over Stravinsky. I’ll be damned if this wine doesn’t make you smile.

Fruit-driven wines (like pop music) have a tendency to drive the geeks away but a sip of Jean Paul Brun’s wine is a lesson on how wine can emphasize fruit without the overkill. You’ll never find gobs of fruit in his Chardonnay or Gamay let alone that weird fake banana/bubblegum taste (thanks to the ubiquitous 71B lab yeast). Jean Paul Brun is part of an unofficial group of producers (Lapierre, Charmette, Desvignes, Roilette and more) in the region that make real Gamay. He doesn’t inoculate and his wines are sometimes too natural for the AOC – in 2007 his Beaujolais l’Ancien was considered much too unusual to make the classified Beaujolais cut.

Terres Dorées wines are a little like the winemaker himself – they are quirky and honest. He has these piercing blue eyes that practically twinkle when he grins. I went to visit his domaine in Charnay not long after the harvest of that crazy hot year in 2003. As we were driving around the village looking for Terres Dorées we came to a cardboard sign that had an arrow, drawn out in felt tip pen, pointing to his property. I may have exaggerated this scene in my mind but Denyse Louis of Louis/Dressner Selections recently confirmed, “He still has the worst sign in the whole of Beaujolais.”

We tasted his wines in tank. At the time he wasn’t making crus and his wines were devoid of pretension. We tasted what was then his soon-to-be-released Beaujolais Nouveau 2003 – it was juicy and expressed the intense heat of that summer. JPB wasn’t freaked out: he was getting whatever the vintage gave him. His property was a lot smaller then. Terres Dorées has since expanded to include a Morgon, a Bourgogne Blanc de Blancs, Fleurie, Côte de Brouilly and he is the winemaker for some family vineyards in the northern Rhone (Condrieu and Côte-Rôtie). I’m intrigued to taste the latter two. His wines are easily found New York and I’ve seen them at some cute little wine stores in London (Zelas – the only natural wine shop in the city that I know of – in Highgate are fans). Despite [or because of?] AOC hassles his wines have an excellent following but I just hope he never gets a posh new sign pointing to his domaine in Charnay.

Follow day by day here: http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

Up next: Guilhaume Gerard’s Natural Wine Dogma; or: Did someone just throw a rock through my window?