Category Archives: Red

Bonny Doon DEWN Barbera/Freisa Amarone 2007

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I’ve been on the Bonny Doon mailing list for coming up on a decade at this point, and I still feel my heart sink whenever I open up my every-two-months club shipment and see… something Italianate. Try as I might, I just can’t bring myself to wholeheartedly embrace Italian wines and winemaking styles, and that goes double when it’s an American or other winery who have just issued a press release saying that the second the American consumer market discovers Walla Walla sangiovese, they are absolutely sure that a massive new (and profitable!) wine market will appear out of nowhere.Yes, I’ve had ecstatic experiences with Italian wines before – Amarone is by far one of my favorite wines – but when I see something like this, I get all sad panda, very quickly. So, it was with some trepidation that I opened this bottle tonight.There’s an indefinable, high-tech-ness to the nose here; it smells massively fruity, and there’s an odd designer yeast-y (or something) note here was well. It’s kind of like aerosolized white pepper intruding into a basket of overripe raspberries set somewhere in a dilapadated garden of tea roses; there’s also a sour muskiness that smells of dry cleaning sent out after a long night at Studio 54 – all floral aldehydes, sweat, and “clean.” Finally, there’s a damascone peachiness sneaking in at the end. It’s all very confusing and kind of remarkable – this is wine? is it supposed to smell like this?Just a little bit sweet in the mouth, there’s a wonderful dark cherry note with tannins hiding in the background (but they don’t really seem to do much; was this microoxygenated?). Acidity is reasonable, it’s actually kind of delicious, and then there’s a very soft finish of damask rose with the tannin lingering around just a bit as well.So, yeah, this is a total Frankenwine, but hey. It’s delicious, it’s a welcome experiment, and it would (presumably) be a hell of a lot of fun to serve this to a connisseur of European wines and see if they can guess what it is. I know I couldn’t.Bonny Doon VineyardPrice: US $25Closure: StelvinDate tasted: June 2008

William Downie Yarra Valley Pinot Noir 2006

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Clad in equally stylish packaging, this wine is the Yarra Valley sibling to William Downie’s Mornington Peninsula Pinot tasted earlier at Full Pour. I really enjoyed the latter wine, especially after some extended breathing, and I enjoy what Mr Downie is doing with Pinot; that is, allowing regionality to speak for itself without attempt at imposing a sense of homogeneity. This is winemaking without ego, and it’s what I drink wine for.Deep but not especially dense colour, mixtures of orange and red and purple (and nowhere near as gaudy as that sounds). The nose is a riot of aromas from first pouring, and only improves with air. Instantly a deeper, darker wine than the Mornington Peninsula label, there are notes of turkish delight, ripe plum, bubble gum, sweet spice and other goodness, even a hint of sous-bois. Expressive and complex but with a sense of poise too, despite its generosity. Palate is equally fascinating, though perhaps a little unexpectedly controlled after the nose. The fruit’s depth and ripeness is certainly confirmed here. Entry is alive and sufficiently (though not overly) acidic, with a nice focused flow over the tongue. Flavour drives a tight line to the middle palate, where things settle and relax a little. The wine, interestingly, shoots off in a few directions at this point, with a high toned fruit lift on the one hand, and a foundation of ripe plum on the other, not at odds, but instead indicative of excellent definition and structure. Grainy tannins emerge quite late in the palate and help dark fruit flavour to reverberate through a very lengthy, impressive finish.There’s a lot going on with this wine, and its complexity will surely increase with time. If you can keep your hands off it. The fact is, it is fabulous right now, with its ultra-delicious flavour profile and approachable structure. Now or later, it’s a win-win. William DowniePrice: $A40Closure: DiamDate tasted: June 2008

Beaulieu Vineyard Tapestry 1999

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Only a slight softness to the rich, crimson color suggests that this wine isn’t at all young; on the nose, what you get is mostly soft, sweet, rich earth with an gentle framing of soft spice. On the whole, it’s rather akin to Davidoff cigarettes: there’s something about this that screams “expensive,” as plush and rich as a Birkin bag, with a suggestion of the tobacco drying shed thrown in for good measure.In the mouth, it seems like it’s begun to fade slightly, with a certain drabness of fruit present. Even so, it is undeniably lovely and seems just the thing to have with a slice of Parma ham (thankfully, I do indeed have some handy thanks to fresh&easy’s discount pricing). There’s still a small bit of tannin on the finish – not very much – and it all ends with a sigh. Gentle, distinguished, elegant, and, I suppose, a reminder of what some Napa wines may have tasted like before Screaming Eagle, Colgin, and so on redefined the style in the 1990s.If you have some of this, now would be a good time to drink it. If you don’t, it’s not good value at the full retail price, but if you see it for $25, I’d seriously consider it.Beaulieu VineyardPrice: US $25 (K&L Wines pricing, normally $50).Closure: CorkDate tasted: June 2008

William Downie Mornington Peninsula Pinot Noir 2006

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What a handsome package. It’s almost too pretty to open, this bottle, capped as it is with a thick glob of wax and decorated with minimal yet humanist labels/artwork. But wine’s there to be drunk, so after admiring it for a moment, I attacked it with a waiter’s friend, revealing a lovely Diam seal. Mere moments with the pump action corkscrew and here we are, ready to taste.The packaging is so seductive and promises such satisfaction, it comes as a (perhaps unreasonable) surprise to find the wine inside isn’t quite so easy. For starters, there’s a powerfully feral pong that emerges from the glass at first. It’s not quite stalk, and not quite oaked spice, but exists somewhere in between, sitting somewhat lumpily atop bright, fresh strawberry/cherry fruit. As someone who likes a bit of pong in his Pinot, I enjoy this flavour profile, but it’s an intellectual experience. With about half an hour of swirling, the feral-ness has integrated nicely into the underlying fruit, becoming an extra layer of complexity rather than a disjointed, if characterful, sore thumb. The palate confirms the light, bright nature of this wine’s flavour profile, and introduces the assertive acid that provides such restraint and definition. It’s all sunshine and light on entry, the acid creating a vivid, fresh impression and the fruit backing this up with bright red, high toned flavour. This wine is a lesson in how impact can be completely different from weight, how intensity is not the same as density. It’s so fleet on the palate, one is surprised any flavour registers at all, let alone the reasonably intense coating of savoury red fruit  and spicy oak this wine actually delivers. Things really start to get interesting through the after palate, where the wine’s structure opens out and promises even more flavoursome times ahead. It’s only getting better as the evening wears on, with additional, deeper registers starting to emerge. It’s not the most complex wine I’ve ever tasted, but the flavour profile is so characterful, you can forgive it for being a little straightforward.I’m betting some short to medium term cellaring (say, 2-5 years) will do some cool things to this wine. At the moment, it is drinking relatively well but its youthful restraint may prove a little frustrating too.Update: I gave this wine a night to think about what it had done. It’s quite transformed, with a lot less bright fruit and a lot more layered complexity. It is, dare I say it, becoming somewhat Burgundian in flavour profile. Nice drop.William DowniePrice: $A40Closure: DiamDate tasted: June 2008 

Grosset Gaia 1997

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This wine has traveled an awfully long way to my table here in San Diego: it’s from South Australia originally, was apparently imported to Germany at some point (the label says “Wein aus Australien” after all), wound up in a Chicago auction house, and now here it is, suddenly making my table look more sophisticated than it has any right to be. (I hid the carry-out pizza box outside just to make sure.)This is obviously a full mature wine: the nose has more to do with shoyu than grapes at this point, suggesting dusky vats, umeboshi, and dried cuttlefish (which, by the way, don’t really smell of fish, but rather of salt). There’s also a seductive aroma of dried cranberries, strawberry fruit leather, and freshly cut cedar. It’s decidedly strange – and yet appealing.The wine has all held together fairly well; it’s probably slightly past its peak at this point, but you do get more than sweet liquid and smoke, which is a relief. There’s a hint of musky, minty berry, a somewhat tired aged note, hints of charred coffee, and then it slinks away under the cover of darkness, leaving only a very slightly off note of sweet old wine. Tannins are still present, doing their best to support the fading fruit; it’s so very close to being a good older wine, at yet it’s not, not really.[By the way, please accept my apologies for labeling this Meritage. It isn’t, at least not technically, but it is a Bordeaux style wine: mostly cabernet (sauvignon and franc) with 5% merlot.]On second thought, this wine is likely displaying low level TCA contamination, unfortunately – it’s at that subliminal level where all it does is mask the true character and quality of the wine, I think. It isn’t immediately obvious, but it is, I believe, causing the strange muted character on the finish more than any other explanation of which I can conceive.Good on Jeffrey Grosset for moving to screwcaps – this shouldn’t happen with newer vintages.GrossetPrice: US $30ishClosure: CorkDate tasted: June 2008

Lowden Hills Merlot 2003

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Having spent four years of my life in Washington state – and three months of that getting a Wine Trade Professional certificate at Central Washington University – I believe that I was finally able to get a sense of what Washington wines are like.Although the terroir of the place is dodgy – the Missoula floods pretty much guaranteed that there isn’t very much of interest going on there, at least in terms of soils – there’s something about the climate that seems to determine a very specific style. Washington is a far bigger state than Seattle and the Puget Sound; yes, Seattle is cold and rainy much of the time (heck, even Dan Savage is starting to complain about the lack of a summer so far this year), but once you cross the Cascades towards Yakima, Red Mountain, and Walla Walla, things change dramatically. Although the winters are cold enough to cause serious damage to grapevines every decade or so, the summers are plenty warm – and balanced out by some seriously cool nighttime temperatures.There’s a certain treble-ness to a lot of Washington wines; the cool nights seem to imbue them with a nervy, electric energy that is a wonderful complement to the dark, ripe character of the fruit. Thanks to the economic boom of the 1990s – and, in Washington at least, the continued good times of the early 2000s (due in large part to corporations such as Starbucks, Amazon.com, and Microsoft), there’s been a massive explosion in the number of wineries up there, many of them family farms trying to cash in on the huge upturn in Washington’s wine quality by making their own wine instead of selling to huge corporations such as Chateau Ste. Michelle.I ventured out to Walla Walla for their annual barrel tasting weekend twice: both times, I marveled at ad hoc helicopter landing pads set up for wealthy tourists from the Puget Sound, just-opened wineries done up in a fake Tuscan style, complete with $75 syrah from two-year old vines. I also basked in the hospitality of some old-time Walla Wallans (thanks again, Brian!) who took pride in the simple fact that some of the local wineries had been there for some time and didn’t charge ridiculous sums of money for some very impressive wines (the Glen Fiona syrahs from the late 1990s come to mind).Anyhow: the first thing that sprang to mind upon smelling this wine was whoa, this couldn’t be from anywhere other than Washington – and it smells like a small family operation on one of their first vintages. There’s a certain smell here that gives it away – it smells like immaculately grown fruit combined with good quality barrels and perhaps a certain amount of what, for a lack of a better word, I’ll call manipulation. Mind you, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing; it’s just that some wines smell as if they were effortlessly made directly from the soil of the vineyard (cf. Clonakilla, Ridge, Vieux-Telegraphe, others). This doesn’t.Instead, it’s got a kind of bacon bits aroma to it, combined with sweet oak of some kind; it also has the same, high-toned note to it you’d expect from a quality Washington wine. It also has a very ripe, jammy, Red Vines-esque heft to it that is rather more appealing than I’m describing it, I assure you.It’s agreeably balanced in the mouth, with steely acidity, good, ripe fruit, and a surprising hint of mintiness or eucalyptus there as well. Oddly enough, it seems like it could also work as a chewing gum flavor for adults – something in the clove gum mold of the 1940s. Tannins are moderate and unintrusive, the finish is pleasant if a touch short, and overall it’s, alas, nothing special, really. Still, that isn’t to say it’s a bad bottle of wine – far from it. What you’re getting here is – in my opinion at least – typicité, Walla Walla style, and at a much fairer price than most of ’em.Lowden HillsPrice: US $24Closure: CorkDate tasted: June 2008

Penfolds Bin 128 Coonawarra Shiraz 2002

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Right off the bat you’re in decidedly Australian territory with this wine: it smells rich, tending towards blackstrap molasses and other guilty pleasures. Decidedly spicy, presumably thanks to new oak influence, there’s also a hint of mintiness here as well as well as violet pastilles and crusty brown bread.Almost overwhelmingly fat in the mouth, there’s somewhat unintegrated acidity lurking in there as well, which clear the wine off of my palate abruptly; this is salved, however, the finish, which is long, gentle, and almost like Mexican chocolate: it’s spicy, smooth, and almost floral.There’s a distinctively jammy Australian berry fruit component here as well, but it seems to be overwhelmed somewhat by the oak. Tannins are fairly soft at this point, and the wine doesn’t appear to be showing any aged characteristics; this is a solid wine that more or less defines what consumers have come to expect from an Australian wine at this price point, I suppose.  It’s all perfectly good but ultimately lacking on some level; even though it’s labeled Coonawarra, it really tastes more like it could be from anywhere, especially compared to Leconfield or Yalumba wines from the same region.The acidity worries me, though – it seems really out of place here. I’m probably wrong, but I suspect some kind of acid adjustment gone ever so slightly wrong.PenfoldsPrice: US $17.99Closure: CorkDate tasted: June 2008

Collector Reserve Shiraz 2006

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It’s interesting to compare wines from a producer that offers just two in its portfolio. Collector, a new Canberra-based producer, sells a lower price Marked Tree Shiraz, and this, its Reserve label. Both are made from Canberra region Shiraz grapes, which makes the comparison doubly interesting.

A heady nose of roast meats, vanilla, spice and rich red and black fruit, and of all things a bit of Yorkshire pudding. Showing a clear resemblance to the Marked Tree wine, this is a whole lot more of everything except perhaps a certain lightness of touch. But this is a Reserve level wine, presumably designed for extra oomph, and it attains this goal admirably.

Deep fruit flavours gush over the tongue on entry, and it’s the sort of cool, firm attack that marks wines of sufficient padding. Despite the rush of flavour, though, this isn’t a large scale or clumsy style. By contrast, there’s real balance here, with each element asserting itself just enough to be perceived before retreating into the complex harmonic flow. This wine has the sort of flavour profile that would be considered lolly-like if it were sweeter; that it shows only a touch of sucrosité means the fruit is beguiling and even a little elusive in character, despite its generosity. A lovely blanket of fine, slightly sandy tannins descends on the tongue as the after palate kicks in; they’re ripe and not especially drying, and so contribute primarily to the wine’s textural dimension. Despite the tannins, I wouldn’t describe the wine as overly structured — acid is not a feature. The finish morphs into a sort of raspberry liqueur-like note crossed with licorice that is utterly delicious.

Interestingly, food (well, the lamb chops I’m having tonight) dulls the wine and hollows out the after palate somewhat. I attribute this to the relatively subtle acidity. So, pair this wine wisely with food, or go the total alco route and drink it unaccompanied.

Collector Wines
Price: $A46
Closure: Stelvin
Date tasted: June 2008

Clonakilla Hilltops Shiraz 2003

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Around six and a half years ago, I was preparing to leave for Australia. Me, I’m Californian, but I’d always wanted to visit; after many years of planning and saving, my partner and I decided to leave for Sydney in February 2001.A few weeks before we did, I met Julian for the first time: we had mutual friends in Sydney, and it was clear that we were both, well, obsessed with wine to a certain extent. I brought a couple of bottles of wine to Australia with me – Bonny Doon pinot gris, I believe – but schedules didn’t work out and we didn’t get a chance to meet in person, unfortunately.Six weeks later, I found myself in Melbourne. I’d already begun having a look around Australia’s wine regions – most memorable were Moorilla Estate (for verging on the ludicrous – think tacky art museum with an utterly trashed tasting room with no actual wine available to taste) as well as Golders Vineyard (probably the first pinot noir I’d ever had that verged on the transcendent). In the meantime, I’d arranged to get together with Julian the next week in Sydney, but of course I wanted to find some wine from my home state. You know, the usual home town pride, nothing special.According to Bonny Doon’s importer, there was one small shop in Melbourne that carried Le Cigare Volant, which was just about the only Californian wine I was able to find in town. Strangely enough, a wine sales rep noticed I was buying it and started to gossip about how Bonny Doon winemaker Randall Grahm had just been in town for some kind of international Shiraz symposium. He’d basically trashed the entire Australian wine industry for producing nothing but “raspberry motor oil” – but did concede that there was one winery in the entire country worth its while: Clonakilla.As luck would have it, Clonakilla isn’t far from the Hume Highway (that’s the road from Melbourne to Sydney for your Americans). It’s just a short detour of about half an hour and besides, I’d never really seen Canberra.I made the detour.An hour later, I realized that I’d probably just had one of the key experiences of my life. Clonakilla winemaker Tim Kirk heard our ridiculous Californian accents in their small tasting room and decided to come check it out; we wound up being invited to taste barrel samples, which had never happened before. I was incredibly grateful and embarrassed, really – it’s unusual for anyone to be that generous in my personal cultural experience, so I didn’t know how to comport myself. To thank Tim, I gave him the bottle of Le Cigare Volant that I’d bought in Melbourne; he gave me a bottle of port in return.The next morning, after breakfast, I bought the most expensive bottle of wine I’d ever bought in my life: a bottle of the Clonakilla shiraz viognier. It had been sold out at the winery, but one shop in Clonakilla still had some. It cost me US $28, which was unspeakably expensive. (It now sells for US $65, assuming anyone has any in stock, just six years later). Julian and I drank that bottle together; it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship (what can I say? As a Californian, I’m prone to inane movie quotes from time to time).Today’s a typical San Diego June day. It’s cool, mostly sunny. I headed into our tiny 1940s garage and grabbed the first thing I could find, and it was a Clonakilla wine. If there was ever proof that a winery’s generosity to a total stranger can pay dividends, it’s the simple fact that I’ve been a loyal customer ever since.In the glass, the wine is behaving French, not Australian. There are tiny particles clinging to the side of the glass; the color is noticeably young – surprising for a five year old wine – all crimson blacks and vibrancy. The nose is unspeakable; by that I meant that it shuts even the most loquacious wino up faster than anything short of La Tâche. It could be meatloaf. It could be an old leather bound book that fell behind your carrel in the library basement. It could be sheets that have been in the closet too long. It could be fresh blackberry jam with demerara sugar. It could be any number of things. It is, at any rate, fascinating.It appears to be a very young wine at times; at other times, aged notes sneak in. They don’t detract from the wine, not at all; instead, they serve as a gentle reminder that this wine, too, will fade at one point, so you’d best drink it now. There’s bright acidity, yet not too much; the initial attack fades quickly and you’re left with a sweetness supported by nicely resolved tannins, a certain smoothness, and a gentle finish that reminds me of croutons and pancetta. At other times, there are decidedly smoky notes, bacon fat, water crackers, and possibly even something like roses. I’ll stop now; I’m sure you get the drift.In my room, it’s 2002 again and I’m standing outside in the Australian sun wondering how the hell this stuff exists. It’s a religious moment as I’ll ever have. I’m grateful to have a glass of this in front of me, I really am.ClonakillaPrice: US $17.99Closure: CorkDate tasted: June 2008

De Bortoli Yarra Valley Estate Pinot Noir 2005

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One of the many joys of wine is to revisit a label that, for whatever reason, sticks in the mind from a previous tasting. The experience is akin to renewing an acquaintance. Will there still be a dialogue, hopefully even more mature and satisfying? Or does elapsed time mean increased distance without corresponding fondness? It’s this unknown that creates a pleasant frisson of anticipation when I check a bottle out of the cellar for repeat tasting. This De Bortoli stood out from the pack when I worked my way through a range of new release Pinot Noirs a while back. I clicked with its assertiveness and sense of style, so promptly purchased a few for later consumption. Pale orange-red in the deceptively dilute Pinot manner. If a barnyard could slap one in the face, it would smell (and perhaps feel) like this wine’s nose. It’s willfully funky and expressive and all those good things that Pinot can be. Red fruit with a touch of musk is there but takes a back seat to all the sappy, savoury aromas that waft from the glass. It’s still very primary and high toned. As nice as the nose is, the light to medium bodied palate is a step up and shows unexpected structure and intensity. Sizzly yet fine acidity hits the tongue and spreads widely towards the middle palate. Although the acid is prominent and creates a bright flavour profile, it’s not a forbidding acidity, and the wine shows a contradictory relaxation in the mouth. Bright, sour red fruits, rhubarb, citrus peel, sappy vegetal characters, beguiling complexity, good flow and consistency of line. There’s a lot to like here. A delicious after palate whose fruit fades just as slightly grainy tannins and yet more acidity transform the finish into a primarily textural experience. This wine has hardly budged in the last year or so and, as mouthwatering as it is right now, should fill out with at least a couple of years in bottle. I’ll be eager to reacquaint myself with it again, and again.Update: three days of air, and the wine is only now starting to evolve. This one’s got years ahead of it. De BortoliPrice: $A25Closure: StelvinDate tasted: June 2008