Château Thivin Côte de Brouilly 2006

This color seems wrong: too deep, too rich, too red. Surely it can’t be Beaujolais, can it? There it is, though, that telltale bright purple rim, something out of the effects department from Twilight; it’s impossibly young and is, I suppose, a market of an “unserious” wine (as would Carignane as well).However! This isn’t your ordinary banana-scented Beaujolais that someone brought home from last November’s sales; sure, there’s just a hint of that tropical fruitiness that carbonic maceration seems to produce, but it’s also much more at Burgundy than Beaujolais, somehow. To me, it smells of black pepper, balsamic vinegar, strawberries: dessert-y, sure, but also somehow very sophisticated. There’s also a sort of leathery component which makes me wonder if this wine has seen oak at some point; it seems relatively complex.Nicely tannic at the edges, the wine uncoils from its mineral depths and into a very fine, well judged middle-weight palate that delivers strawberries and cream with a sassy acid backdrop, allowing the fruit in the foreground to truly shine. It all finishes on a very bright, grapey note that reminds me of pears poached in a port wine sauce: lovely dark fruits seamlessly mixed with fresh produce from a spring garden.To me, this wine is utterly delightful: it seems to exist at that magical interstice between unserious and very, very serious. This isn’t supposed to be a grape worth paying attention to, but treated sensitively, as this wine is? It’s a rare treat.Château Thivin
Price: $20
Closure: Cork

Gundlach Bundschu Pinot Noir 2005

One smell of this and whoa, you’re in California. This doesn’t come across anywhere near as lean and means as Burgundy or Oregon: instead, you’re in distinctly warmer territory here. I can’t quite put that smell into words, but sometimes you smell a pinot and it just isn’t delicate; there’s a hint of varnish hovering over the full, red fruitiness.There’s a distinct earthiness or sappiness here as well, though, so it isn’t all shiny happy berries, which is a relief. There seems to be a dark, bitter chocolate note there as well, so I’m guessing this stuff has seen a fair whack of oak at some point.In the mouth, though, the wine is surprising: nimble and light on its feet, avoiding any sense of stewed fruit or overripeness. The flavor profile isn’t at all what I was expecting, tending towards the fairly sour with a fleshy midpalate, tasting largely of dusty leather, pipe tobacco, and sour raspberry jam. The finish is slightly overly acidic for my liking, but of course all that means is that you’d best drink this one with charcuterie; by itself, it seems just a bit incomplete, but it does offer up a wide range of flavors ranging from standard Pinot all the way through to earthy sap. For my money, this isn’t really a match for Oregon pinot or Burgundy – it’s just a bit too big and top-heavy in some way – but it’s a very fine example of Sonoma pinot noir and easily holds its own with some of the classic, e.g. Gary Farrell. Price-wise it’s fairly priced, too, which is unusual for this part of the state. Oddly enough the wine it reminds me most of is Bass Philips, albeit in kind of a cartoony way – this isn’t anywhere near the wine that is, but it has a similar fullness of profile, I reckon.Gundlach Bundschu
Price: $35
Closure: Cork

McPherson Grenache-Mourvedre 2005

I’m currently on a business trip to San Angelo, Texas, which is a relatively small city of about 80,000 people pretty much in the middle of nowhere, about four hours’ drive due west of President Bush’s ranch.Although there’s an airport here with daily flights to Dallas, it was far less expensive to fly into Austin, the state capital, and drive. More importantly, the Texas Hill Country AVA is about an hour and a half west of Austin, so I thought it’d be a kick to see what’s going on in Texas wine country.I did stop at one winery, which I won’t name here: it opened relatively recently, with a very good looking tasting room with a tasteful selection or merchandise, plenty of parking, and a very friendly tasting room employee who informed me that Texas was now the #2 wine producing state in the nation. (Trust me, it’s not. Washington and Oregon dwarf Texas’s wine production by far.) Tellingly, their whites were generally made from California grapes (where, I have no idea; neither did their employee), but they did have a couple of Texas red wines. The best of the bunch was a thoroughly humdrum Bordeaux blend that approaches Rawson’s Retreat quality levels, but at the amazing price of $55.That’s right. Fifty-five bucks. I think I now know what Enron executives were doing with their money!Anyhow, enough about “the #2 Wine Destination in America” (according to the tourist brochure put out by the local vintners’ co-op marketing board).Tonight, I went out and found a lovely wine shop here called In Vino Veritas. The staff were very friendly, even if they couldn’t pronounce “mourvèdre”; the place looked like a great place to sit and enjoy a glass of wine with friends, even if the owner’s humongous dog was stinking up the place and eating off of a plate of tiny cheese cubes. I don’t mean to sound rude by pointing these things out; I’m just noting that it was, ahem, a bit different than your typical snooty West Coast wine shop. They went so far as to uncork my bottle for me (no corkscrew in my hotel room!) and recork it with a Turley cork (sexy!), and now I’m enjoying it out of Hampton Inn’s finest plastic stemware.On pouring the wine, it seemed to me that the color was a bit wan; to me, this is either indicative of a marginal climate (unlikely; this appears to be from Lubbock, which is up towards Oklahoma*) or a winemaker who’s trying hard to emulate the French classics and not produce a total hedonistic fruit bomb (e.g. a Turley).The aroma of the wine is decidedly pretty, smelling very soft and sweet with a deliciously floral perfume of warm red raspberries; I don’t really smell much of the typical mataro gaminess here. There’s also just a hint of what’s probably volatile acidity; it’s almost a nail polish remover note, but it’s so subtle that I really don’t think it’s a flaw in any way; it just adds to the charm of this stuff. In the mouth, this is indeed a little bit thin compared to the stuff I’m used to from California, but the flavors are very fine indeed, with a soft, smoky undercurrent to subdued brambly fruit. There seems to me to be a hint of tobacco sheds and spice box here; there is definitely just a bit of classic Shiraz pepperiness and it’s well integrated with the fruit.All in all, this wine is A-OK by me. I’m not sure there’s anything here that tastes different enough to make me think West Texas is the next Marlborough or Mendoza, but this is a very well crafted, well-judged wine that would be ideal to drink with a first rate Texas steak. Based on this wine alone, I’d love to try more of Kim McPherson’s wines.* Not actually true (I had to check the map); Lubbock is just south of the southern border of Oklahoma. My apologies.McPherson Cellars
Price: $15
Closure: Cork

Neudorf Sauvignon Blanc 2007

Although I was fortunate enough to visit Neudorf last January, I completely neglected to write anything about my visit there. However, I did find a bottle of their wine (the only one in the entire shop!) upon returning to San Diego, and here it is:The nose is intensely tropically fruity and reminds me of pineapple more than anything else; it’s exuberant and nine-tenths of the way to a Mai Tai. However, the simplicity of the nose is deceiving: once you get some of this in your mouth, it goes in unexpected directions. First of all, the texture of this wine is unusual for sauvignon blanc (at least to me, New World kid that I am). It’s vaguely reminiscent of, I don’t know, Mexican fresas con crema, which is basically a light whipped cream dessert; this wine seems to me to have similar light-yet-creamy characteristics, a lovely balance between fruit and cream. Going back to the nose for a minute, the wine seems to have more in common with gewürztraminer than sauv blanc; it seems to be slighlty floral, tending towards roses, with some black pepper sneaking in at the side. Very, very curious.The mid-palate to finish of the wine return to relative normalcy; it does in fact wind up at the somewhat stereotypical gooseberry note you’d expect from a NZ sauv blanc. However, what’s exceptional is that it doesn’t dissolve into a shrill hoot of acidity; instead, it somehow maintains its composure and sneaks out on a soft ebb of sweet cream.This is really, really good stuff.As for visiting the winery itself, well, I don’t regret it, but I also was nonplussed by the experience. Obviously, Neudorf do great business; their parking lot was entirely full with Land Rovers and other Toorak tractor-esque metal, leaving little choice for many but to park on the grass. Once inside, the entire tasting room experience was one of those uncomfortable commerce-oriented experiences designed mostly to sell you product; although tasting room staff were friendly and knowledgeable, they turned decidedly cool when I declined to purchase anything opting instead to put $5 in the charity box they kept on hand for “gold coin donations” to their favorite charity for anyone who dared not buy wine on the premises. If there’s anything I truly despise at a tasting room, it’s being hounded to buy wine, no matter how good it is. Yes, Neudorf, your wine is amazing, but do you have to make us feel so little for not buying any on-site? It’s not always easy for international visitors to get wine home; some of us have to wait until we get home before hunting down some locally.That being said, I’m glad I did, and I’ll buy it again – I’m just bummed at the lingering bad taste your tasting room experience left behind.Oh, and would you please export your Pinot? It was amazing. kthxbye!Neudorf
Price: $16
Closure: Stelvin

Ridge Buchignani Ranch Carignane 2004

Honestly? The first word that comes to mind here is naff. This isn’t a stylish wine, it’s not fashionable, never has been, never will be. The only reason this stuff exists is because Italian immigrants to California took it with from the old country; it’s survived here and there for over a century, and this wine is produced from some of those ancient vines.It’s a wine-y wine in that it smells like generically good wine. There’s not a lot of complexity; I’m not imagining old libraries, fresh mushrooms, straw in autumn sun, none of that stuff. Instead, it smells like bright, rich, clean, wholesome fruit. There is also a kind of fall-off to the smell that is hinting at bottle age, but it doesn’t necessarily seem like a bonus: instead, it seems like a reminder not to keep the wine around so long the next time.Once drunk, the wine is fairly simple and bright, with a chunky, tannic finish that’s quickly rescued by sprightly acidity. There’s a certain weight to the palate that’s attractive, but ultimately this isn’t one for the ages; it isn’t compelling enough to drink on its own, but would probably shine with charcuterie or a leg of lamb. Ultimately, the most interesting thing about this wine is simply that it exists at all. When I drink this, it’s satisfying to know that a small part of my state’s heritage exists in a consumable form to this day.Ridge
Price: $24
Closure: Cork

Domaine de Durban Cru Beaumes de Venise Cuvée Prestige 2006

There’s no sense in beating about the bush here: this is one of the best wines I’ve drunk so far this year. I had to look this one up: Beaumes-de-Venise is an AOC in the southern Rhône that is primarily known for a VDN/fortified sweet white wine; until this bottle showed up at the house last week (as part of a special offer mixed dozen from Kermit Lynch in Berkeley), I had no idea that they made red wine there as well.This is in a sense your bog standard southern Rhône: it’s mostly grenache, there’s some syrah, and just a little bit of mataro there as well. The strange thing here is this: at first, this seemed to behave like a fairly typical New World fake Rhône: the nose was wonderfully rich, promising cherries and leather and rich, easy-drinking fruit. However, it also suggested caramelized sugars, still-drying tobacco, and medium-dark molasses as well; it was frankly fascinating.Things really kick into high gear once you get a taste of this wine, though, because it quickly morphs from New World fruit fiesta into a very, very traditional French wine, with thick, assertive tannins quickly demanding attention combined with that peculiarly French minerality that shows up in kind of a nearly-harsh, high-toned, almost-sour character that dominates the finish. It’s like sucking freshly pressed raspberries through finely crushed gravel in a Kentucky tobacco drying shed. All of it put together is utterly entrancing; I wish I’d ordered more than just the one bottle of this.Domaine de Durban
Price: $20
Closure: Cork

Swedish Hill Cabernet Franc-Lemberger 2006

Noticeably light when poured, this wine doesn’t offer up much in the way of anything to smell other than suggestions of tomato leaf. Taste-wise it’s a real dog, with unpleasant, leafy, green, underripe flavors leading to a flat, almost sour, disappointing finish; with aeration, it improves somewhat to offer up something like a synthetic cassia and wild strawberry combination, but it’s still just not quite there.Let me at least praise the winemakers’ decision to leave well enough alone and not drown this wine in residual sugar; it is decidedly dry in and could be passed off as a lesser Loire red in a pinch. However, it doesn’t strike me as possessing any sense of place or even much of a reason for existing: at sixteen bucks a bottle, this wine is redonkulously overpriced. If you’re going to spend this much on wine, might as well get two bottles of Washington lemberger instead (which tends to be much more enjoyable thanks to the warmer climate) or an actual Loire wine (which at least will probably have some minerality and perfume there as well). I really, really don’t see the point of this wine at all – at least not at this price point.Swedish Hill
Price: $16
Closure: Cork

Two Georgians Tsinandali 2004

This wine smells like overripe pears and heavy white flowers. There’s a somewhat overwrought perfume here reminiscent of cheap floral perfumes dusty from neglect, stashed behind the counter of a small town drugstore. There’s almost a slight citral note here, too, but ultimately what is there isn’t there for long; this wine doesn’t smell fresh or old, just reticent.Somewhat medium bodied in the mouth, the entry of the wine is unremarkable, but blossoms strangely into something resembling a weak tisane of elderflowers and mint. It’s all tinged by what I’ll describe as the taste of cheapness: it’s got that strange, overcropped feel you get in developing countries that have yet to rejoin the world of modern winemaking techniques. It reminds me of cheap Slovene wines or indifferent mass-produced French ones.There’s good, well-judged supporting acidity on the finish, and the flavor – such as it is – does linger for a while. Ultimately, this seems to be a case of wasted potential; everything here could be good given reduced vineyard yields, but someone went for quantity, not quality, and what we’re left with is a bottle of wine that’s good enough to make me sad for what could have been, but nothing more than that.

Domaine Chandon Carneros Chardonnay 2005

At first glance, this wine should be roughly the same as the Gloria Ferrer from last week. Both wines cost $14, both wines are from Los Carneros AVA, and both wines are produced by European companies that have a fair amount of history between them (at least in terms of producing sparkling wines).In the glass, everything seems to be the same as last week: this is a very bright, polished wine in the glass, if slightly more pale and less green than the Gloria Ferrer. Thankfully, there was no cork involved, so opening the bottle was a cinch… but I find I’m regretting it.The nose is basically stale movie butter popcorn with just a skosh of floor wax. There’s also just a hint of fresh green apple as well as a musty oakiness lurking around the corners; it smells just a little bit tired and more than a little bit boring.In the mouth, I can’t decide if this just tastes like flat sparkling wine (yuck) or a McDonalds-style sweetened My First Wine type product produced especially for the now-failed wine attraction at Disney’s California Adventure. It’s, well, gross: the sugars hang around in an irritating, louche manner better suited to Jean-Paul Belmondo than the bright California sun. Flavors are not overtly complex; a good jug of Odwalla organic orange juice is more interesting in terms of flavor profile. Worse yet, there’s a feckless whack of acidity that sneaks up on you at the very end of it; it all feels like you’ve just hired an inept hooker who just ran off with your wallet while you were still unlocking the hotel room door.I am not a fan. Avoid.Domaine Chandon
Price: $14
Closure: Stelvin