Continuing along the lines of yesterday’s wine, this is another ‘high-end’ wine that appears to be primarily stocked by supermarkets. Again, good friends brought this bottle over to share with a pizza, but we wound up drinking something else entirely, so here I am sitting at home enjoying this one on my own for a change.Optically less severe than the Gallo, this wine looks something like dark coffee with a reddish tint. It’s got very obvious legs as well, which (to me) promises a rockin’ good time; all I need to do is find some barbecue or pizza and I suspect I’d be set. The nose is vaguely woody but ultimately dumb; it’s like candy floss/cotton candy in a walk-in, wood paneled closet. Not bad, but again not really wine (at least not to me).The surprise comes when you actually drink some of this: it’s bright and acidic, with pretty firm tannins supporting it all. However, it does seem like something’s been kinda fucked with here: the acidity doesn’t seem right for a wine this sweet (acidification?), and the tannins seem flown in from somewhere else entirely; It’s all kind of disjointed and jarring, and after it all quiets down, you’re left with a sense of jammy sweetness and some lingering acidity at the back of your throat. Not really my idea of a good time: if you’re going to go for happy fun time party wines, might as well find yourself a Chris Ringland cheapie, I reckon. Over time, it all gets slightly better, but still: if you’re spending this much money, there have got to be better options. $8 Aussie cab is more fun, and $18 Loire reds are more interesting, to name a couple of other options at random.All in all, this reminds me of an interesting experience I had many years ago at a Bay Area winery. An old friend (and my then-current boss) was winemaker there, and he went through a lot of work to save some wines that hadn’t turned out quite right the first time around. Using every trick he learned at UC Davis, he was able to deliver something drinkable – but only if you didn’t think about it too much. If you did, you began to realize that Mother Nature could never have produce what you were drinking, which made for a surreal experience.This wine is the equivalent of bad techno.PS. As an aside, this has been a hell of week for cork taint: both a bottle of Dolium Malbec 2002 (which I brought back from the winery, even) and a bottle of the Olivier Guyot Marsannay Favieres Vielles Vignes 2005 were dead on arrival. Grrr. Thankfully, however, Ed at The Wine Exchange cheerfully refunded my $15 for the Marsannay – now that’s good customer service. 🙂Rodney Strong
Price: $18
Closure: Cork
Monthly Archives: October 2009
Undurraga Sibaris Carménère 2007
In a happy coincidence, I have in my day job a professional association with James McIlwain, who helms Southern Cross Wine Merchants. This wine is part of its range and I’m grateful to James for providing me with a sample. In the course of chatting with me about this and Chilean wine in general, he sketched the Colchagua valley’s topography on a post-it note, including key geographic features and weather patterns. A miniature masterpiece, to be sure, and more deserving of the paper recycling bin in which it ended up.
Undurraga
Price: $A24
Closure: Cork
Frei Brothers Reserve Merlot 2005
These are the kinds of wine stores that there are here in San Diego:
- Supermarkets
- Liquor stores (bodegas)
- Small wine shops competing on price (Wine Steals, Vintage Wines, SD Wine Co.)
- Costco
- Beverages and more!
I’d argue that there are no high end wine stores in San Diego – we don’t have anything like K&L here, so you’re stuck driving to Hollywood if you’re looking for the expensive stuff.Anyhow, I mention this here to discuss how and why this particular bottle of wine is in my house. Several months ago, friends of friends visiting from the Midwest generously invited me over to their vacation rental near La Jolla and shared their dinner with me. Completely unbidden, they even stopped at a corner liquor shop and bought a bottle of nice wine to share with me over dinner, but someone we didn’t get around to drinking it together, so here it is.This is a wine that you would presumably never, ever find in a “fine wine” kind of establishment. This is factory produce, courtesy of the Gallo family empire. Sure, they’re not mentioned on the label and everything’s been carefully designed that the wine’s produced by a family wine company (true, sort of) in Sonoma County, but between you and me? This is the Wal-Mart of the California wine world staring me in the face. (OK, not so much: Fred Franzia had nothing to do with this, but you get my drift.)So: Tonight’s question is simple: When your average American consumer heads down to the average corner liquor store and buys a nice bottle of wine (read: roughly double what the ordinary stuff costs), what does it taste like? Answer: It tastes like this:The color is very dark for a red wine, nearly black, dark all the way out to a thin, watery rim. Optically, it’s great: this looks exactly what you’d imagine expensive red wine to look at. The nose is decidedly sweet and straightforward, something like Christmas cookies; it’s a sort of low-key, friendly cherry spicebox effect with no real complexity and most assuredly neither funk nor greenness.There’s a noticeable lack of many of the things that make wine work for me as a beverage here. The line of this wine is very strange: it starts sweet, hangs there for a minute, shows a very small amount of tannin, and then finishes quickly and sweetly as well, with a simple berry flavor that isn’t even remotely compelling. I’m at a loss to describe the effect of drinking this, but on some level it seems like a fermented grape juice beverage product scientifically designed to appeal to people that don’t like wine. In fact, even the extremely mild, brief tannins that are here seem present only to announce that this is in fact a Very Nice, Expensive Wine because we’ve come to fear that particular sensation whenever we’re offered wine – if that makes sense. I guess I’m trying to say that there’s a homeopathic dose of nasty here (read: tannins) just to remind the drinker that they’ve moved on into Serious Wine Territory here.All in all, this is vaguely like Chinese barbecued pork in a bottle: slightly sweet, obviously red. Weirdly enough, though, it seems successful at what it seems to have set out to do: provide a wine drinking experience for an aspirational consumer who doesn’t actually like wine… and for that, I do have to respect the winemakers here.Frei Bros.
Price: $18
Closure: Cork
Los Bayos Mencia Roble 8 Meses 2006
The worst thing about your partner being away on a business trip is simple: you find yourself staring at your cellar unable to decide what to do. Should I drink anything? Surely not – a bottle is entirely too much for one person. All of the good wines you have seem a shame to drink by yourself; everything else you still really want to share no matter how bad it is, if only to get some feedback from a friend before talking much about the wine.I ran by the two least inconvenient wine stores near my office on the way home from work this evening just to see how things are going. It doesn’t look good: no customers, lots of empty shelves, and some immoderate deep discounting is definitely going on. Petaluma chardonnay for US$13? Yes, you can has. Green Point still wines? Only six bucks! It’s crazy.Anyhow! On to tonight’s wine, a cheap Spanish red from Bierzo. I first drank Bierzo wines at a ridiculous dinner club in Madrid, lounging on white pillows with a bunch of friends watching Spaniards dance a quasi-tango to music from an Uruguayan songwriter. This wine is typical: a nearly black red, very youthful, with a rich, fruity, sulphur-camphor nose suggesting simple pleasures, memories of eating too many cherries and getting a tummyache.There’s also an attractive yeastiness here, probably for no reason other than inexpensive winemaking, coupled with a sort of dill pickle, medicinal, clove-y note. My apologies: that sounds kind of gross, but honestly, it’s good. The first thing you notice when you drink some is a full-on tannic assault right up front, unexpected and with a slight prickliness to the after edge of the attack. The midpalate is not as fruity as you’d expect, tending more towards leather (fruit- and otherwise) and spice, with a gentle rolloff at the end into a creamy, cherry-vanilla finish. Lively acidity is also in play, however, so nothing comes off as easy or simple.Ultimately this is a pretty damn good wine for the money: there’s plenty of interest here, far more than (say) critter wines would give you for the same amount of money. Cherries, acidity, spice, full-on tannins that bow out quickly, and a gentle finish make this eminently drinkable, at least for me; add charcuterie or a well-grilled steak and this would really sing.Los Bayos
Price: $7
Closure: Cork
Unison Classic Blend 2007
Though this is nice to drink, it’s in every way a lesser wine compared to its reserve-level sibling, the Selection (2005, 2006). I’d definitely spring for the mesmerising Selection for maximum satisfaction.
Unison Vineyard
Price: $A30
Closure: Cork
Unison Selection 2006
Some wines are charismatic without being pretty; they make an entrance with the panache of the truly confident, and it takes a moment before you realise they’re really not that attractive in a conventional sense. But their confidence draws you in regardless, generating a visceral response that, perhaps, speaks to a different sort of beauty.
For example, I could describe the aroma of this wine as outré, inelegant, overanxious; it’s indeed all these things. But it’s absolutely magnetic too, exerting an attraction that is really compelling. It’s a bit volatile — indeed, not a clinical style at all — with lifted aromas of stalk, black pepper, dried flowers, and deep plum fruit. Despite the eagerness of each note, there’s a fluidity to their collective expression that unifies the aroma profile and generates a sense of coherence.
There’s coherence, too, from nose to palate, starting with an entry that tingles with delicately sweet, red fruit. The flavour profile quickly darkens towards the middle palate, and a few threads begin to emerge. There’s rich, fresh plum juice, tart plum skins, sweet mocha tannins, astringent stalk and cracked black pepper. It’s quite complex, with a beguiling mouthfeel that seems to be both liquid-smooth and velvet-tannic at the same time. Spices and red fruit rise through the after palate before a long, aromatic finish draws the wine to a satisfying close.
There’s definitely an “X factor” at work here and, perhaps because of this, I suspect the style will be divisive. But even if this wine doesn’t speak to one’s personal preference, it’s hard to deny the strength with which its stylistic argument is made.
Unison Vineyard
Price: $A50
Closure: Diam
Domaine Alain Chavy Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Clavoillons 2006
With Burgundy, it’s a truism that producers make all the difference. So, the same premier cru may vary wildly in reputation based on who has grown the grapes and made the wine. All of which seems sensible, until one places it on the context of terroir and the defining place Burgundy seems to hold in terms of this idea of wine. In the immortal words of Michael Veitch, there’s a lesson in that for all of us.
Domaine Alain Chavy
Price: $A81.40
Closure: Cork
Penfolds Bin 407 Cabernet Sauvignon 2000
Graphically at least, this bottle seems to suggest a radical break with Penfolds tradition. Gone is the slightly daggy, endearingly old school label that looks as if it were designed by a TAFE graduate armed with nothing more than a biro and a ruler. Instead, we have a perfectly ordinary, utterly corporate, yawn-inducingly generic label that strikes me as if it were designed solely to lend Penfolds product an air of internationally respectable cachet that would allow them to be sold alongside, oh, Mouton-Cadet on duty free shelves in Heathrow airport. It’s sad, really: packaging is important, and this just screams ‘Hey, we sold out to Southcorp, home of awesome heating equipment. Oh, and we make wine! International style wine guaranteed to never, ever raise eyebrows!’ Oh well.So: how’s the wine? In the glass, it’s deep, dark, rich and visibly aging at this point, a dark, rich red tinged with a hint of molasses. The nose seems just a little bit dumb, promising nothing more than aged wine, hinting at well-scrubbed linen closets and air-dried laundry. Things finally get going when you actually drink some: there’s still a good sense of sweetness and heft here, amplified by very subtle cedary oak, that expands into a somewhat simple, slightly sour, really rather delicious finish supported by some well-rounded tannins.Given the somewhat bright acidity here, this wine really doesn’t work well on its own. Add a steak, though, and I think you’re in the right place in terms of doing what the winemakers presumably were hoping you’d do. This is fairly decent cabernet, not really international style (the sourness! the moderate alcohol!) and also definitely not Bordeaux (no minerality! no greenness!), so I suppose it really is uniquely Penfolds. Not bad, and yet somehow lacking (at least to me). Would I buy it again? Yeah, probably. Would I wait so long to drink it? No – something appears to have gone missing along the way. I’m not getting particularly interesting aged characteristics here, and I’m thinking this might’ve been more interesting five years ago.Penfolds
Price: $18
Closure: Cork
Wynns Coonawarra Estate Alex 88 Cabernet Sauvignon 2006
Wynns’ series of single vineyard bottlings over recent vintages prompts, amongst other things, the question: why? The back label suggests each bottling represents an outstanding parcel of fruit from a particular vineyard in a particular year, which is fine; but what, exactly, does “outstanding” mean in this context? Of the two I’ve tasted (the Johnson’s Block and this one), both seem within the same order of magnitude of quality as the Black Label, yet slightly outside the mainstream of regional style set by that same wine. Perhaps a distinctive character, not ostentatious quality, is the point here. I can dig that.
This was really disjointed for the first while but is coming together nicely. Used coffee grounds, ripe red fruit, polished sideboards full of old cutlery, and a few pine needles too. I wouldn’t describe the aroma as elegant, which is a shame to me as Coonawarra Cabernet can be terribly stylish, but it’s also flagrantly, sexily aromatic. The culprit, it seems, is fruit that errs on the side of very ripe, and oak that bludgeons in its custard, cedar profile. I’m being picky, though.
The palate is plush and generous, such that the wine drinks well now. Somehow, it seems more varietal than the nose, especially in its herbaceous overtones. As with the nose, the fruit here is sweet and red, and slightly stewed. There’s a nice linearity to the flow, with a consistent level of fruit intensity and density from early on through to the finish. Some interesting complexities of flavour, especially on the after palate where something akin to aniseed seems to poke its head out, along with a bit of menthol. Tannins are silty, globby masses of texture, kind of like wading out onto a mud flat with bare feet.
It’s not really my style of Cabernet, but I think it should win quite a few friends nonetheless.
Wynns Coonawarra Estate
Price: $A35
Closure: Stelvin