2014 Owen Roe Abbot’s Table

88 points

Juicy and plush with plum and spiced blueberry. Fine, ripe tannins contain a gentle string of acidity through the chewy core. A dusting of cocoa powder adds to the palate. A crowd pleaser, though falling short on dimensionality. Drink now—2020. (MW, January 2017)

Price $24

Varietal: Red Blend (Zinfandel, Sangiovese, Blaufrankisch, and Malbec)

Region: Columbia Valley, WA

Alcohol: 14.1%

2012 Luna Beberide Art

92 points

Medium violet with compelling aromas of slate, spiced blueberry, anise, and mint followed by a wisp of smoked jerky, adding allure. With svelte body, a density of flavor persists, followed by unflagging, gravelly tannins. A stimulating experience. Still wound tightly. Drink now—2022+. (MW, December 2016)

Price $55

Varietal: Mencía

Region: Bierzo, Spain

Alcohol: 14%

2012 Avalon Rutherford Cabernet Sauvignon

88 points

Dense purple with glass staining power. Plush plum declaratively takes center-stage, while a hint of raspberry and graphite linger in the background. Medium-plus in body with medium acidity, and firm, fine-grained tannins. Black cherry and barrel spice on the palate give way to a slightly misaligned finish, with alcohol overstaying its welcome. (MW, December 2016)

Price $20

Varietal: Cabernet Sauvignon

Appellation: Napa Valley

Alcohol: 14.5%

The Sandbox

“He walked in, pulled out a roll of hundreds, and flipped me two,” gnarled the no-nonsense owner of a boutique wine shop. He had been paid by the largest distributor in the state for bringing in ten cases of wine.

This is illegal.

In his case, a customer requested the cases for a special event—he had no intention of stacking* them in his store. In fact, he thought the wine was shit. He also didn’t know he’d get the payout. From the perspective of the conglomerate distributor, his purchase had triggered the payoff. Send in the man with the wad of Benjamins. Interestingly, Mr. Heavy Pockets is a separate employee than the distributor’s sales rep who typically services the shop.

Nestled on the edge of a wealthy, Midwest suburb, this one-man wine shop prides itself on small-production and high-quality wines. The owner doesn’t cower to the Powers. He simply received an unexpected, free date night, paid for by a customers large order, and mediocre taste.

Courtesy of Wikipedia Commons

Courtesy of Wikipedia Commons

As I walked out the door with my distributor’s sales rep, he said, “Yeah, I’ve heard it before. I’ve talked to some larger shops that say, “I’d love to stack your wine, but I can’t give up the $140 a month I get for that stack.” Both the winery that employs me and our distributor here can’t play this game. Both small and family-owned with honorable values statements, we wouldn’t dare, nor can we afford to dance this dance.

The words “pay to play” get thrown around frequently in the wine world. In the age of wine distribution mergers, the game keeps getting scarier for the thousands of small to medium-sized wine producers. You want your wines on certain shelves and restaurant wine lists, get ready to pay. While not always Benjamins, money flows to these accounts circuitously. And we’ve only talked about distributors.

Over the past week, Wine Spectator released their “Top 10 Wines of 2016” through a countdown. Seeing the producers on the list from my region, and having tasted hundreds of 2014 Willamette Valley wines, I have a tough time believing these producers landed on the Top 10 by merit of the juice alone. In fact, Wine Spectator doesn’t even deny the non-blind nature of the picks. While most of the industry uses the term “X factor” to describe a thrilling bouquet or texture that carries something unique and sublime, here Wine Spectator directly states something quite different:

“Then when you take the bag off, that’s where the X Factor comes in. Is it a new domain, new producer, great value? What is it about the wine—that’s the back story that adds to the excitement.” Senior Editor James Molesworth, Wine Spectator 

And of course, how did these wines receive their high scores in the first place? Plenty furrow their brows at the correlation between advertising dollars spent and scores received. Here I do not levy my claim at Wine Spectator alone, nor do I levy it at all publications. None the less, plenty of room to wonder.

While none of this news should surprise us in the 21st century, it should still unnerve us. And if you want to settle those nerves, go find that honest suburban shop owner and ask him what he recommends. It is the path to better wine and a better world, locally and globally.

 

*Stacking = to stack multiple cases of the same wine to prominently display it, typically reserved for the $15 and under category in medium to large wine, beer, and liquor stores.

Sources

In-smell

I have a bias. I’ve long held this inclination, but have recently worked to expand my awareness. New in . . . sight has affirmed my bias—no more shame.

I care way more about the aromatics of a wine than any other factor. From the nose we can gauge nuance, complexity, layers, intrigue, depth, density, purity, specific aromas. . . you get the point. However, as a rather new industry-insider, many around me have emphasized the importance of wine’s texture and mouthfeel. Why? Points and the general public.

I submit wines for my employer (a producer of Willamette Valley Pinot Noir and Chardonnay) to nearly all of the major wine publications for review and a score. Conversations with winemakers, PR/Marketing specialists, and other industry insiders, in conjunction with a close following of the scoring publications, has undeniably confirmed the value of a wine’s texture, weight, and presence on the palate. Palate increases points—most want a suavely-textured wine.

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A captivating bottle produced by Owen Roe

I, however, put much less emphasis on mouthfeel when judging a wine. And after months of refocusing on texture, weight, tannins, acidity, and their interaction, the last two weeks have jilted my new practice. I recently caught the bug that gave my wife Pneumonia. While spared the clogged lungs, my head has suffered the consequences mightily, and so has my sense of smell. I’ve spent two nights at my WSET Level 3 in Wine course unable to smell the Pommard, Châteauneuf-du-Pape, or Côte-Rôtie wines tasted during the sessions. Zero smell. “Alright, a new chance to focus my energy on the palate,” I consoled myself.

Nonsense.

Wine is simply alcohol without our sense of smell. Yes, I could and did focus on these other factors while sick, but I could have instead drunk orange juice to play with acid, or whole milk to experience weight. Hell, combine the two—it wouldn’t have mattered. Smell makes wine the knee-buckling elixir that has captivated our minds for millennia. While not the only factor that makes a wine great, smell is primary.

If you, like the publication editors and reviewers, value a wine’s density and texture, more power to you. I’m going to keep swirling and sticking my nose in the glass, because I revel in the rapture of this rabbit hole.

The maker of the rabbit hole

The maker of the rabbit hole

Tasting the Bella Vida

Three wines. Each providing a thumbprint and insight into a winemaker’s style. All under one roof. A tour of the Willamette Valley typically provides the curious connoisseur an experience with Pinot Noir, soils and AVA variations, winemaking style, and brand image. The preeminent role of site, however, leaves the taster wondering what effect the winemaker had in comparison to the plot of land and farming that raised the grapes.

Bella Vida Vineyard in the Dundee Hills

Enter Bella Vida Vineyard. Located in the rust-hued hills of Dundee, the motherland of Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, Bella Vida contracts three noteworthy Willamette winemakers to each craft a Pinot Noir that highlights this site and the essence of their winemaking style. As a 26 acre vineyard, each winemaker works with very similar fruit tended by the same vineyard manager. This culminates in a memorable and deeply informative tasting experience.

In the middle of the tasting, owner Steve Whiteside poured a trio of 2012 vintage wines from his three winemakers—Jacques Tardy of Torii Mor, Jay Sommers of J. Christopher, and Brian O’Donnel of Belle Pente. Each wine demonstrates that winemaking impacts our experience with a wine profoundly.

The line-up from Bella Vida Vineyards

2012 Bella Vida Tardy Pinot Noir

Pure ruby in color, lifted aromas of red cherry and spice leave no doubt that this is Dundee Hills wine. In the background, a hint of mushroom adds intrigue. With lithe body, medium-plus acidity, and a finish that carries memories, this wine will clearly benefit from aging. I have a bottle in my cellar to investigate. Excellent.

2012 Bella Vida J. Christopher Pinot Noir

A darker-hued wine with a blue rim, this wine leans into the darker fruits with spiced blueberry melding with tilled earth. A balanced wine all around. While my least favorite of the three wines, it undoubtedly sings of Pinot Noir while holding its head high. Delightful.

2012 Bella Vida O’Donnell Pinot Noir

Minimalist winemaking creates a suave-textured wine with black cherry, bramble, and floral kisses. My tasting crew unanimously declared this their favorite, in large part due to the mouthfeel. Excellent.

With production at about 150 cases for each of these wines, visitors to the valley will likely never touch these gems unless they visit the vineyard personally. The opportunity to taste the decision-making and ethos of each winemaker will captivate any wine enthusiast. The fact that the fruit hails from such a stunning site—both visually and viticulturally—makes this a must visit tasting room on your next trip.

How to Lose a Sale

Step one: Pull the cork on your winery’s award-winning Pinot Noir.

Step two: Fail to test the wine for flaws prior to pouring or test the wine and fail to notice flaws.

Step three: Pour two-thirds of the bottle to other tasting room guests (title shift, “How to Lose a Silly Number of Sales”).

Step four: Pour award-winning wine, while gloating over the award.

Step five: Fail to acknowledge a flaw (cork taint, aka TCA) when guest, backed by group of four other tasters, states the wine is corked. More specifically, taste the wine in question in front of the guest, then tell the guest that she is wrong. Do so while holding the questioned bottle, which now contains three ounces of award-winning Pinot Noir.

Step six: Admit to minimal wine experience during your time talking with this group.

Mission accomplished. Take a bow.

Tar, Barnyard, White Pepper, Compost

What makes expensive wine so expensive? I get this question more than almost any other. And it is a great question. Many layers weave together to create a wine’s price tag (Wine Economics Part I, Part II, and Part III only scratch the surface). However, a remarkable reality persists—the large majority of wine drinkers don’t particularly enjoy drinking expensive wines, especially the exalted wines of the Old World*. Blind tastings of regular folks have consistently shown no correlation, or even a negative correlation, between the wines they like and the price of the wine.±

A view from the patio at Bethel Heights in the Eola-Amity Hills AVA of Oregon

The tasting descriptors of lauded Old World regions provide clues as to why this phenomenon exists. Open a five year old Beaujolais Cru from Morgon, France, and the slate stoniness and tart acidity, along with the second-fiddle role of fruit aromas and flavors, shock many wine drinkers. Head south to the Northern Rhone of France, and the Syrah punches the palate with savory black olive, bacon, white pepper, and charcoal. Aged Bordeaux? Wet dusty road, tobacco, truffle, compost, and gravel, with fruit once again singing back-up. The list of the “great” wines goes on in similar fashion. And on. Karen MacNeil argues that Great Wine must display a degree of non fruitedness. See the tasting notes above, and you get her point. For most, though, non fruitedness dominates many of the  great wines, sucking the pleasure provided by the primary fruit flavors.∞

So why the hell does anybody want to drink the expensive stuff? Some argue that wine drinkers experience an evolution of the palate. In reality, the exploration of wine becomes academic. How does a presentation on the macroeconomics of suburban zoning arouse the minds of some fellow humans (this one’s for you, Mom)? The act of diligent study, over time, begins to stimulate neural connections that never previously existed. Consequently, hard work and forced study slowly shift into a pleasure inducing experience. In the words of Twain, “Then his work becomes his pleasure, his recreation, his absorption, his uplifting and all-satisfying enthusiasm.” Blessedly, for wine drinkers, we get to relish in the initial “work.” Absorption and enthusiasm grab hold, and the mind takes the reigns. How do soil, place, and grapes create this? No, winemakers in the Piedmont commune (village) of Barolo don’t add tar extract into their wines. So how does this happen? A wine enthusiast is birthed.

Enjoy the wines you enjoy. When the hard work takes you to a new place, step into the bizarre novelty that surrounds you.

The lush life of bud-break wine experiences.

The lush life of bud-break wine experiences

*Old World = Western and Eastern European winemaking regions, including France, Italy, Spain, Germany, Greece, and Austria, where winemaking first took root.

± http://www.wine-economics.org/workingpapers/AAWE_WP16.pdf

∞There is certainly an American bias in this article. This bias likely plays a substantial role in answering why Americans’ prefer cheap wines. Our processed food, salt and sugar-added diet likely skews our palate toward sweeter, fruit-driven wines. I would love to see a break down of “average consumer” wine preferences in Europe compared to the United States.

Chapter Deux

Starting today, I put all my chips into this world of bottled history and culture. Wagon Wine began in 2014 while I continued my full-time career teaching literature and writing. The site served as a creative outlet, a challenge to deepen my understanding of wine while writing engagingly. After a year of working both in the classroom and for a Willamette Valley producer, Fullerton Wines, I have accepted a full-time position with the Fullerton family. My wife says she can see the child-like wonder in my eyes—the thrill of fireworks on the fourth of July. I’m sure she can.

Expect more frequent posts as I jump head first, glass in hand, into my vinous ventures. I will also begin the WSET Level 3 Advanced Course in August as a way to broaden my perspective and palate. I anticipate the benefits of this study to flow into my writing and workplace.

A business trip to Elk Cove Vineyard this past week. Always beautiful in wine country, however, this site stands above the rest.

A business trip to Elk Cove Vineyard this past week. Always beautiful in wine country, however, this site stands above most.

Here are a few articles I’ve had published elsewhere in the past month:

Chapter one stirred the pot.

Chapter Deux

After embarking up the first mile of trail, a metamorphosis . . .

Thank you all for your support.

A Romantic Ideal Must Tumble

I recently read an excellent article on “White Label wines” by Madeline Puckette and Co. over at Wine Folly. Except for one glaring bullet-point:

“Some wineries with tasting rooms will make a few own-vineyard wines, but will use bulk wine sources to make their cheaper, lower-end affordable bottlings. We’d ask what’s the point of selling something you pre-bought, rather than making at the winery? But it happens…”

It certainly does. Frequently. And understandably so.

First, what is bulk wine? Many established wineries at all quality-levels sell some of their finished wine on the bulk market. This is purchased by the gallon by other wineries or winemakers, typically at a fair tariff. Why would an established winery sell off the fruit (wine) of their hard-earned labor? Sometimes the wine is flawed. Other times it simply doesn’t make the cut for the premiere producer who grew the fruit and made the wine. One man’s trash is another’s treasure, though, and I have drunk many fine wines in the $12-$20 range that resulted from the latter. Finally, some producers sell finished, bulk wine to increase short-term cash flow. It turns out that bottling, labeling, marketing, selling, and then taking a hit in the three-tier system (producer, distributor, retailer) costs wineries a lot of money.

Punching down the cap of fermenting red wine.

Many wineries buy bulk juice, and for essential reasons. For instance, young wineries buy bulk to produce enough volume to create a viable business. Owning your own vineyards is an expensive proposition (understatement of the year at Wagon Wine), and buying fruit is also expensive as a result. Buying some bulk juice allows many new, small, and moderate-sized wineries to enter the market and sustain their business.

I certainly respect the notion that established wineries need not turn to the bulk market.

Thankfully, Madeline contradicts herself at the end by writing:

“We’ve pointed out several issues that white label wines can have, but we believe there’s a lot of potential with this segment of the market. The bulk wine market involves a lot of great wineries and great wines from special places all over the world. A lot of these producers are focused so much on making wine that they lack the resources to market it. Winemaking is very capital-intensive, and the winery may need to sell wines in bulk to raise cash faster than they can sell their own wines, even if the wine is perfectly good.”

Yep, and many young winemakers and wineries rightfully take advantage of this “perfectly good” juice to create their entry-tier wines. Perfectly understandable, and ultimately beneficial to us, the consumers.

So yes, Madeline, transparency matters. And not all bulk juice is equal. However, don’t take a sledgehammer to a nail. Bulk juice in entry-level bottles sustains many reputable, small to medium-sized family wineries.