A Year in the US

It's now a year since I flew into the US. A lot has happened in that time: I've got married, gained my green card, and started working. I've tasted several hundred California wines and partially finished in San Francisco the WSET Diploma I started in Manchester. And day-to-day I've lived the American life that I'd only briefly witnessed on holidays and TV. Here are some cultural observations on the US, and maybe how the US has changed me.

view from the Mayacamas mountains towards San Francisco

tipping

Getting used to tipping no matter what the service - though it's usually good - took some getting used to. Buy a beer and tip a dollar, even if you've been waiting five minutes and the glass isn't full. Go to a restaurant and all of a sudden the expensive meal becomes very, very expensive when you add a gratuity - again, regardless of whether the food was good or arrived on time.

After a month or so, it became second nature to me, adding on the 20% without even thinking about it. And now I find myself complaining about not being tipped. I'm working in a tasting room, where I serve five pours of wine, talk extensively about wine and the weather, and look after each set of customers for around 45 minutes. And receive next to no tips. This has always been my problem with tipping culture: in certain situations you are supposed to tip (bars, restaurants, the hairdresser, taxis) and so you do; in others, there is no expectation to tip, and so you don't. Somehow I need to integrate the concept of automatic tipping into tasting room culture.

wine and regulations

Tasting rooms are unlike most found in Europe. They range in style - some are big and ostentatious, others are small and intimate, designed to reflect the ethos of the winery. Especially in the Napa Valley, tour buses and limousines pour into tasting rooms, depositing drunken groups of visitors eager to spend lots of money.

every winery has a dog

This is part of a very different wine culture. For a start, it's still young, to a certain degree recovering from Prohibition. Many drinkers like their wines sweet (even reds); others claim to abhor sweetness in their wines and complain about dry wines being sweet. Understanding of wine is very much varietal driven which results in a lot of resolute prejudice - "I don't like Chardonnay. It's too sweet."

Regulations are another hangover from Prohibition. A winery cannot serve food unless the customer buys wine with it: a concept I kind of like. Wine, such an integral part of the California economy, cannot be shipped to many other states because those states (Kentucky, Oklahoma, Louisiana, New Jersey, Pennyslvania) don't want their people drinking too much booze. That's right, Louisiana, home of New Orleans, won't allow wine to be sent directly to people's homes.

driving

The US has one particular rule that makes driving a nightmare: you can both undertake and overtake cars. In theory, this opens up the road and makes passing slower cars easier. In practice, it leads to drivers hogging one lane because they're too scared to change lanes. And this often means four cars all lined up next to one another going the exact same speed. Roundabouts are scarce. Instead, there are stop signs at every junction at which every driver has to halt even if there isn't a car in sight. Outside a major city such as San Francisco, public transport is virtually non-existent. With this dependency on the car and rules which directly clog up traffic, driving in California is slow, often stop-start, even outside rush hour. It's the one negative aspect of living in this warm, sunny, wine-soaked state.

San Francisco

I've lived in some interesting cities - cocky Manchester, dirty Dublin, and mad Madrid - but my visits to San Francisco have revealed a city quite like no other. It's unforgettably beautiful, surrounded by water and mountains, rising on its own small peninsula. It's vibrant, each block revealing its own character, bars and restaurants driven by youthful enthusiasm. There are established, well-to-do areas and edgy quarters still emerging from industry and neglect. On one visit, a taxi driver described it to me as "beautiful but dysfunctional," which is very accurate. The city is full of roadworks and construction, trying and failing to keep pace with a constantly growing population, bringing traffic to a regular standstill. Rent prices are impossibly high, and commuters sit in rush hour traffic around the city for hours on end. For all its attractions, I'm not sure I could live in San Francisco.

the wine itself...

Napa Valley wine is uniformly expensive and uniformly Cabernet Sauvignon. There are some extremely good wineries in Napa, but I wish there were more variety and more affordable wines available. Land in Napa is so expensive, though, that it's difficult to make wine without having to charge high prices - which is why everyone sticks to Cabernet because that's what customers will pay money for.

The price of wine is not only a Napa problem. California wine is either dirt cheap or expensive. Far too few wines offer truly good value for money. Here in California, that doesn't matter too much as people are willing and able to pay, but if California is to compete on the global stage with Chile, Argentina, South Africa, or Australia it has to produce more competitively priced wines.

Outside Napa, there's wonderful variety. Name a grape and someone somewhere makes a varietal wine out of it. Sonoma produces everything from Pinot to Zinfandel, with obscure French and Italian varieties in between. Paso Robles has exceptional Rhône blends. Santa Barbara and around is known for Pinot and Chardonnay, but has perhaps the greatest potential in California for Syrah. And then there are the hippies in the Sierra foothills, sometimes - whether deliberately or accidentally - producing great wine at decent prices.

...and other drinks

I'd argue that California is still behind the rest of the States in its craft distilleries - although in Germain-Robin they have the original and best, producing brandies from cool, wild Mendocino as good as the greatest Cognacs. I am surrounded by great breweries, all producing very drinkable, hoppy IPAs as well as their own distinctive creations: Bear Republic in Healdsburg, Lagunitas in Petaluma, Sierra Nevada in Chico, and, best of all, Russian River Brewing in Santa Rosa, as well as a host of up-and-coming microbreweries. It's a good time for a beer drinker to be in California.

boo to the metric system

I've become so accustomed to fiercely dry, hoppy IPAs that on a brief trip back to the UK the malty bitters I'd been drinking all my life were quite a shock to the system. Other aspects of American life I've found more difficult to become accustomed to. The US is the only country I've ever visited which defiantly avoids the logical metric system: recipes call for cups and ounces; temperatures are only given in fahrenheit; the twenty-four hour clock is never used; and an American pint is smaller than a British pint, one unit of imperial measurement I am familiar with.

Californians talk about the weather a lot, even though every sunny, warm day is the same as the last. A life of sunshine and no rain - now that's something I've begun to take for granted.

Behind the Mind of Au Bon Climat's Jim Clendenen

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In May, @kt_canfield and I met Jim Clendenen, one of the most charismatic and influential winemakers in California. Here's the account of our lunch with him.
 
Meeting with Jim Clendenen, “the mind behind” Santa Maria’s acclaimed Au Bon Climat, would be a difficult feat for any journalist hoping to come out with a clear argument to their story. This lack of clarity, however, only reinforces how integral Clendenen’s work is for California wine, still just a teenager in search of its place in the global industry.

California Pinot Noir is emerging as a serious wine category, particularly in Sonoma and Mendocino Counties, so it was enlightening to meet one of the original architects. Clendenen, who made his first vintage in 1982, is based in Santa Maria Valley and his iconoclastic and individual wines are standard bearers for California Pinot Noir and Chardonnay.

Katie Canfield meets Jim Clendenen

Clendenen wasn’t always considered so mainstream. Like many of the old guard of California wine – think Frog’s Leap in Napa – his wines were not especially fashionable in the 1990s and early 2000s: not brash, fruity, or alcoholic enough. “The concept of 16% wines is one I never understood,” Clendenen exclaims. “Are you so stupid with your palate that you’re paying $300 for wines from Napa that are undrinkable? … Do you want to fight with your wife every night?”
 
The global reputation of California wine has for many years been based largely on Napa Valley, which has succeeded in producing collectable wines at sky-high prices. “Some of the most disappointed people as they get older are collectors of [Napa wine],” Clendenen counters, as they realize that the $50 bottles of wine they had purchased before the 2008 crash were better and more drinkable than the $350 bottles they had bought to collect. 

The question posed in recent trade discourse has been whether or not California wine is changing, evolving into something more restrained and food friendly – and if this trend is just a passing fad or truly an evolution. If so, many California wineries are well placed to take advantage of these new attitudes toward food and wine.

Clendenen preparing lunch at his winery

“Food and wine pairing in America has simultaneously gotten more informed and more complicated,” Clendenen says. “Wine and food pairing is a slam dunk. If you’ve got food and you’ve got wine, that’s already good. If you’re drinking wine as a cocktail, that’s already bad. That was America in the ’70s and ’80s. The bigger, the more opulent, the more single, stand-alone statement the wine got, the more delicious it was.” For Clendenen, wine and food are ideally suited counterparts, an idea augmented by the home-cooked meals that he serves regularly to his staff, alongside a line-up of new and older vintages of the wines.
 
Part of Au Bon Climat’s reputation has been gained by their presence in restaurants across the US. Clendenen has long made house wines for many of the restaurants he supplies. This is also helping make Clendenen’s wines fashionable once again, even if he isn’t doing anything differently from what he has always done. His food-friendly wines link into the US’s sommelier-led wine culture, and are readily available on wine lists suddenly short of Burgundy.
 
Although Clendenen has a tremendous respect for others in the wine industry, he does not mince his opinions. “Oregon is the most confused place on the planet,” he claims. “The whackier you plant, the less chance you have of making any money. There are limits to profitability because of yields.” He does see Oregon providing competition to California in that the state is attracting elite French winemakers, especially due to the recent “nightmare” vintages in Burgundy: “What they don’t realize is that Oregon is always a nightmare.”
 
Burgundy itself presents an opportunity of a different sort. The 2013 vintage in Burgundy looked good “until greatness was snatched away at the last minute.” As a result of three consecutively difficult vintages, consumers have had to turn elsewhere and established producers such as Au Bon Climat are well placed to take advantage. “I believe that Burgundy and I peacefully co-exist. With yields so low there right now it’s a huge opportunity, but only because I’ve been doing it for thirty-three years.” 

Much of what Clendenen says applies to the winemaking scene throughout California. Brian Mast, of San Francisco’s Wait-Mast Cellars, also believes that, “I don't feel like we're competing with Burgundy, for example when we're trying to get our wines on a list at a nice restaurant. I think it is a little more compartmentalized, where some lists will have a mix of Burgundies and domestic Pinot Noir.” It is the vibrant food scene that will draw consumers to these wines “as winemaking and consumer tastes are starting to lean towards more balanced, food-friendly wines.” 

The dynamic of US wine culture is changing. With Jim Clendenen’s long experience making world-class Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, smaller-scale producers in California can follow his lead to put the regions in the global spotlight.

Red, White, and Blue Bubbles

This weekend was my first ever 4 July celebration, bringing to life Bruce Springsteen songs and Tom Cruise movies. During the day I received many comments, sometimes amusing, on how it must be for a Brit to be in the US. As most of my family are Irish I don't really care, but I still enjoyed making fun of the Americans having to rely on the French to be free of the British.

I spent the evening of 4 July at my wife's family home in Chico watching a spectacular firework display, followed the next day by a tasting competition between a Champagne and a California sparkling. A couple of days later I tasted an English sparkling wine, all of which made for a red, white, and blue stand-off.

California

The wine was Schramsberg's 2011 Brut Rosé, a blend of Pinot Noir (61%) and Chardonnay (39%). Schramsberg have successfully carved out a niche for themselves as California's premier indigenous sparkling wine producer, challenged only by Iron Horse and J Vineyards (sadly recently bought out by Gallo). They make their wine in one of the hottest parts of Napa Valley - site of Jacob Schram's winery, one of Napa's earliest - but source their grapes from northern California's coolest regions, Carneros, Sonoma Coast, and Mendocino. Despite those cooler climates, the wines are most definitely Californian: fruit forward with a much lower acidity than a region such as Champagne.

Schramsberg have been making sparkling wine since the mid-1960s - their 1969 Blanc de Blancs was served at the Nixon-Mao summit in 1972 - but there's still a long way to go before their wines match those of Champagne. That balance of acidity, sugar, fruits, and autolytic aromas is a unique combination that is very difficult to find in California. So it was with the Brut Rosé: an onion skin colour, a full, yeasty nose with aromas of strawberries, and a sweetness on the palate that the acidity could not counter. ✪✪✪

France

What distinguishes Champagne from every other sparkling wine is acidity: this is such a cool region that acidity is just as about as high as it could be. Most, though not all, Champagne houses put their wine through malolactic fermentation to soften that acidity, though even then it's still often noticeably bracing. Gosset, however, are a producer who do not do any favours for the drinkers' palate: their wines are made without any malolactic fermentation whatsoever.

The Gosset wine we tasted was the Grand Rosé Brut ($85; 58% Chardonnay, 42% Pinot Noir, 8% red wine) and I was expecting to be overwhelmed by the acidity. That acidity was a key characteristic of the wine, but it was wonderfully integrated with the sweetness (9 g/L of residual sugar), the red fruit aromas, and the light autolytic aromas. This really was Champagne at its integrated, elegant best. As expensive as it is, California really didn't stand a chance. ✪✪✪✪✪

England

And then came along the English, as they often do. The English inadvertently invented Champagne by making it bubbly, but the very recent movement of English sparkling wine was led by two Americans, Stuart and Sandy Moss, who in 1996 founded Nyetimber, whose 2003 Classic Cuvée won best sparkling wine in the world in 2009. Nyetimber's success revolutionised the tiny English wine industry; whereas plantings had previously been dominated by hybrids and German clones, Chardonnay and Pinot Noir are now the two most planted grapes. There are many things set in place for England to produce quality bubbles, with the soils the same as Champagne's and a climate getting gradually warmer. The main disadvantage is that making wine is very expensive, and there's a great deal of vintage variation.

The main attribute of English sparkling wine is that acidity is even higher than in Champagne: these are wines that benefit from some sweetness, which is currently unfashionable. Balance that acidity and English sparkling wine could be as great as any in the world.

The wine we tasted was Gusbourne's Brut Reserve 2008 ($30; 36% Chardonnay, 37% Pinot Noir, 27% Meunier). Unlike the Gosset, the wine has undergone full malolactic fermentation, giving a pleasant creaminess to the wine and ensuring a balanced acidity - residual sugar is 10g/L. This was a yeasty, brioche wine, not as subtle as Gosset, but with very attractive mature aromas of bruised apples. ✪✪✪✪

By dad has a saying: the French are arrogant, but they have a lot to be arrogant about. Gosset were founded in the 1500s, and although Champagne has changed greatly over the last four hundred years, the region still produces the world's best sparkling wine.