Old Vine (not just) Zinfandel

There are a few select areas around the world graced with gnarly old vines, planted in the nineteenth century and still producing wine. These vines are special because they produce exceptionally concentrated wine (albeit in small quantities) and because they are a direct, physical connection with the distant past. Ironically, it's the so-called New World that has rich plantings of old vines, particularly in phylloxera-free parts of Australia and also here in California, where nineteenth-century vines have survived the twin ravages of phylloxera and Prohibition.

I visited Ridge's property in northern Sonoma County, on the border between Dry Creek Valley and Alexander Valley, where there are vines planted in the early 1900s after phylloxera struck California in the 1890s. There are even some vines from the 1880s planted to the St. George rootstock by canny growers who were learning from France, where the devastating effects of phylloxera were countered by grafting vines to American rootstock. Walking through the vineyards made me realise how connected we are to the past, as some of the practices of the nineteenth century still hold true today, and how winemakers and growers from around the world have always learnt from one other.

the passing of time

 

 

1990s Carignan vine, with a higher-trained canopy

old vine, with a lower-trained canopy

The Ridge vineyards have many old vines with thick, wrinkled trunks, growing in different, maverick directions, determined to do their own thing after many years growing, yet disciplined in the quality of grapes they produce. These are interspersed with thin, seemingly weedy vines that are easy to train but produce fruity, upfront, almost undisciplined wines. These young vines have been planted to replace the old vines that one by one die. The contrast between the young and old vines was stark, but with time one will grow into the other. Ridge are intensely interested in preserving California's wine culture, but also in building on it. The younger vines are trained higher than the older ones, so that the canopy can be better controlled, but still without trellises which are almost uniform now across California (with the exception of Syrah, which has wildly productive canopies).

zinfandel, and other varieties

Old Vine Zinfandel is the most famous style of wine in California which connects the state's rich winemaking culture with today's drinkers. Rightly so, because old Zinfandel vines produce wines with much more concentration of flavours than young vines which result in fruity, somewhat simple wines. But on Ridge's property, there are over 20 other grape varieties planted, some of the vines dating back to the nineteenth century. Zinfandel is at its best as the main part of a blend, and those other grape varieties add what Zinfandel can sometimes lack according to the site: colour, acidity, or tannins.

These other varieties include Petite Sirah, which was planted far more than I was expecting in Ridge's vineyards, providing colour and tannin, as well as two other much-maligned grape varieties. Carignan is often dismissed as a high-yielding, low-quality grape, but old Carignan (spelt Carignane by Ridge as it was in California in the nineteenth century) can produce intense, concentrated wines, and it can also add acidity to a blend. Alicante Bouschet is dismissed even more often, planted during Prohibition to give colour to home winemakers' amateur efforts. Not only do Ridge have old Alicante Bouschet, they're still planting it now - for its historic importance in California as well as the colour it adds to a wine.

blending and field blends

Mataro, or Mourvèdre as it's known in France

In the nineteenth century, all those grape varieties were often planted together in the same vineyard without any particular rhyme or reason. Or at least, so it can seem. I walked through the vineyards with Ridge's viticulturist Will Thomas, who explained that the winery had conducted experiments to see if co-fermenting the field blends was better than fermenting the different varieties separately. The field blends won. Turns out those nineteenth-century European immigrants knew what they were doing, and now Ridge are deliberately planting some of their vineyards as field blends.

old-vine Pinot Noir

Having said which, there was one old vine, planted in 1901, in the middle of all those warm climate varieties. Its canopy was far more developed, aggressively so, and the grapes ripen more quickly than the vines around it. Will had conducted quite a bit of research to learn which variety it was: unexpected answer, Pinot Noir. There must be few older Pinot Noir vines in the world, and here it was planted entirely in the wrong place.

This on-going learning experience is now focused on two newly-planted rows with over twenty varieties, arranged in alphabetical order from Alicante Bouschet to Zinfandel. These vines have been planted to see how the different varieties perform in the same conditions. It was incredible to walk down the rows and see how the canopies are larger with some varieties (Syrah); others have noticeably waxy leaves (Grenache Gris); while others grow firmly upright (Mataro, or Mourvèdre).

old-vine Syrah

The most intriguing of all these field blend vineyards was one planted to Syrah, Petite Sirah, and Peloursin. Petite Sirah, also called Durif after its creator, is a crossing of Syrah and Peloursin, an extremely tannic grape. Here was a vineyard that had the mother, father, and child all growing together: in California, where vines were only first planted two hundred years ago.

When Zinfandel isn't Zinfandel

I am just about old enough to remember when it was officially declared in the mid-1990s that Zinfandel, California's most Californian grape, was the same as Italy's far less heralded Primitivo. This came as a blow to advocates of California wine: Zinfandel, grown throughout California since the nineteenth century, is, in its fruity, blowsy, unabashedly alcoholic way, California in a glass. In contrast, Primitivo comes from Puglia, the heel of Italy's boot, a region whose reputation rests on producing fruity, alcoholic wines to be anonymously blended into those from other cooler parts of Italy. It was like saying that Zinfandel is, ultimately, only good for White Zin.

As ever, the truth is a little more complicated. The DNA fingerprinting that confirmed the connection between Zinfandel and Primitivo also showed that the two are actually non-identical twins, and that neither originates from Italy. Furthermore, despite the clear similarities between the two grapes, the wines taste distinctly different: Zinfandel remains very much its own Californian thing, as winemakers firmly appreciate.

how did Zinfandel end up in California?

There's still a lot of speculation about the origins and etymology of Zinfandel, and many of the discoveries about where it came from have only emerged in the last twenty years. But a narrative has emerged: in the 1820s, an American called George Gibbs imported cuttings from Europe and one of the varieties was probably what we now call Zinfandel - called Zanfandel and Zinfindel in New England (Zinfandel's name may be because the grape was misidentified as being called Tzinifándli, which is actually an obscure Hungarian white grape). He took it to Boston, where it was grown in greenhouses and used as a table grape. It's difficult to think of a climate less suitable to Zinfandel than cool, wintery New England. Rightly overlooked as a table grape, Zinfandel crossed continental America during the Gold Rush, settling in the Sierra Foothills where gold was first discovered and then around San Francisco. This is what I love about Zinfandel: its history in California begins at the same point that California's own history begins, with the influx of American and European immigrants into the state in search of sunshine and gold.

After its arrival in Napa and Sonoma in the 1850s, Zinfandel quickly became the most planted grape in California. The wines, though, were not the single-varietal wines Americans are now most familiar with; instead, the wines were field blends, made from a number of varieties planted in the same vineyard. Most important in these blends were Petite Sirah, still an important blending grape in Zinfandel wines, Carignan, and inferior varieties such as Alicante Bouschet. Some wineries still make these field blends: Acorn in Sonoma make a wine from over 60 varieties, while Ridge, one of California's greatest wineries, make some of the state's best Zinfandel from old-vine field blends.

so where did it come from?

Mike Grgich is one of California's most important winemakers, emigrating to the US from Croatia in the 1950s. Upon seeing and tasting Zinfandel, he immediately thought that it was the same as a Croatian grape he had grown up with called Plavac Mali. When it was discovered that Zinfandel and Primitivo were both clones of a different variety, he and others urged UC Davis researchers to see if he was right: they found that Plavac Mali was actually an off-spring of Zinfandel. Encouraged by that connection, they tested other Croatian grape varieties and found one that was both identical to Zinfandel and indigenous to Croatia: Crljenak Kaštelanski. At the time, in 2001, there were just nine vines of the variety left in Croatia, all growing wild. It really is very impressive that Grgich was able to identify the Croatian background of California's most individual grape, and that the researchers were able to find the Crljenak Kaštelanski variety before it went completely extinct.

the twentieth century, lest we forget

Old-Vine Zinfandel is now a term much seen on wine labels, first used in the late 1960s. There are many plantings throughout California, dating back to the 1880s particularly in Lodi and Sonoma, and it's amazing that these plantings still exist. California was hit by phylloxera in the 1890s, and then Prohibition. Vines of all varieties were ripped up in the 1920s, and replaced by Alicante Bouschet, a dark, intense, simple variety that home winemakers could make easily and claim to be wine.

After Prohibition and the Second World War, California slowly began to rebuild its wine industry, but Zinfandel was not the focus of that renaissance. It was seen as too old-fashioned, simple, and rustic, and French grapes such as Cabernet Sauvignon were preferred for the higher-quality wines that were redefining California's reputation around the world. As much as I abhor White Zinfandel, the popularity of that style in the 1980s allowed the old vines to survive. Zinfandel was then subject to another trend: hang-time, allowing the grapes to stay on the vine beyond normal ripening to maximise sugar levels and therefore alcohol. The strongest Zinfandel, a grape naturally high in alcohol, which I have tasted is 16.5%.

That's fortified wine. But California and Zinfandel don't care. Part of the 2005 EU-US trade agreement allowed California wines to label their wines above 15%, which is the legal cut-off point for wine in the EU. California creates its own rules, which the rest of the world is sometimes forced to follow.

where we are now

I've been here in California for 15 months now, and I've come to the firm conclusion that wines from Zinfandel are some of the most expressive that California has to offer. The alcohol in the wine is slowly getting into balance - 15% for Zinfandel is natural and balanced, if high - and the use of French and American oak adds structure. And the great strength of Zinfandel is the old vines; not that many places around the world have 130-year-old vines, which result in wines with an intense, concentrated joyfulness.

Zinfandel? or not Zinfandel?

Croatia

Dubrovački Podrumi Crljenak 2012 ($27)

Croatia's vineyards are located near the Adriatic Sea, the cooling influence of which creates beautifully aromatic white wines and tannic reds. This maritime climate was apparent in the wine: the red fruits didn't have that alcoholic ripeness of Zinfandel and the palate had drying, rather than ripe tannins. Nevertheless, there was a rich complexity, with dried blueberries, prunes, paprika spices, cedar, and smoke, besides the red fruits. There was a subtle, difficult element to this wine, which emphasised just how Californian and upfront Zinfandel is, as did the 13.5% alcohol - there's few, if any, California Zins with this low alcohol nowadays. I don't like the terms "New World" and "Old World," as they simplify the complex variety of wines made around the world, but this was a case in point of how European wines can have such a different style from those made, for instance, here in California. ✪✪✪✪✪

Grgić Plavac Mali 2010 ($37)

As it's made by Mike Grgich himself, it's not surprising that this was a much fruitier and more Californian wine than the Crljenak. Plavac Mali is the grape that Grgich thought was Zinfandel, and he now makes a varietal wine from his native Croatia. The alcohol likewise was at Zinfandel levels, of 14.8%. Nevertheless, the fruits still weren't quite as jammy, and were much blacker. The wine too wasn't as spicy as either the Crljenak or a typical Zinfandel. I liked this wine, but I felt it could have benefited from being a little more Croatian and a little less Californian, as it fell somewhere in between. ✪✪✪✪

Puglia

Tenute Rubino Punta Aquila Primitivo 2012 ($16.99)

Much more like a Zinfandel, with its ripe red and blue fruits, smoky nose, and spicy palate. Primitivo, as its name suggests, is an early ripener, more so than Zinfandel. This means that the fruits here weren't quite as richly jammy as Zinfandel's, though the alcohol was still high (14.5%). Interest in Primitivo has soared since its identification with Zinfandel, with lots of single-varietal wines being made in Puglia. This has drawn more attention to Puglia, where the wines are slowly getting better and better. Although this is a good thing, Primitivo isn't Puglia's best grape - it's traditionally been used for blending - and the increased number of Primitivo wines doesn't necessarily showcase the best that Puglia has to offer. ✪✪✪

The grape identified as the same as Zinfandel produced the wine most unlike it, while the two grapes which are closely related but slightly different were most like a California Zin. Which, ultimately, just goes to show that the climate, the soil, and the winemaker are just as important in how a wine tastes as the grape variety itself.

Summer Drinking

Last weekend, the sun beat down on Napa and Sonoma, hitting highs of nearly 40 degrees. Temperatures are normally in the low 30s, cooling down at night to pleasantly moderate temperatures (which is why the two counties are such good grape-growing areas), but when it's that warm the heat stays, making the nights very uncomfortable. There have been a few, brief heat spikes like this over the summer, which is one of the factors (including the lack of rain) that has made 2015 such an awkward vintage.

the different stages of Zinfandel all on one bunch

In many parts of Napa and Sonoma, the harvest of the white grapes has already begun, with the black grapes not far behind. The stress the vines have been under this year is likely to make the quality of the 2015 vintage good, but production is going to be relatively low - which is a good thing after some bumper vintages.

Aside from the effect of the hot weather on the grapes, another pressing question arises. What to drink? I need wine that's refreshing but complex enough for food, beer that's light and summery but not bland, or a cocktail that's not too intense and hot. Here are a few of the things I've been drinking to combat the hotter days.

Deschutes Fresh Squeezed IPA (6.4%; $9.99 for a 6-pack)

new label on the left, old on the right: same great beer

Not surprisingly, the warm weather has seen me drinking beer more often, particularly IPAs. American IPAs are much hoppier and drier than their malty British equivalents, which makes them perfectly refreshing for this warm weather. From San Diego to Seattle, the West Coast has a host of options to choose from, of which Oregon's Deschutes is a great example.

The first time I tried this beer was two years ago in Portland, on a rainy September evening. As delicious as it tasted then, it takes on another level in the summer sun. Most beers are made using dry hops, which give beer that recognisably dry, bitter taste. For the Fresh Squeezed, Deschutes also use fresh hops, which provide green, herbaceous aromas - almost the beer equivalent of a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. To add to this green freshness are pungent citrus, grapefruit aromas that come from the Citra and Mosaic hops, all together creating a lively, refreshing IPA.

El Maestro Sierra Fino ($15.99)

It will come as no surprise to regular readers of this blog that I recommend a sherry for some summer supping. A fino - or its close equivalent, manzanilla - is an ideal counter to the heat: light, pale, and dry, but with enough complexity and weight to be satisfying on the finish. Finding good sherry in Napa is not the easiest of tasks, but El Maestro Sierra are a producer widely enough available. Their fino has a nice nutty salinity to it, with lightly baked apples and a woody backbone from four years in old American oak barrels. It's wonderfully refreshing, yet subtly sophisticated, a drink to sip on the porch while watching the world slowly go by.

Dirty Dick's Downfall

This is my own take on a variation of the classic Negroni. It's 60ml gin (in this case, Sipsmith's London Dry Gin), 15ml dry vermouth, and 15ml Punt e Mes (which I use instead of Campari), with a lemon twist. That's a lot of dry, bitter flavours, but that's what I like to drink in the summer - drinks that are too sweet, no matter how high the acidity, can feel a bit too weighty. It also provides an always welcome opportunity to toast the fall of Richard Nixon, referred to in the drink's name.

Tascante Ghiaia Nera 2012 ($20)

 

The obvious and common thing to do in the summer is to drink white wine, but somehow the tannins and fruits of red wine are what I often turn to in the evening. Maybe all the times I've visited the south of France, Italy, and Spain, where red wine dominates despite the climate, have led me to associate drinking tannic, drying red wines with hot weather. I drank this Sicilian wine (made from the high-quality grape Nerello Mascalese grown on the slopes of Mt. Etna) last weekend as the evening very slowly cooled, together with a delicious pizza. The high acidity makes the wine extremely refreshing, while the integrated tannins and red fruits paired perfectly with the pizza's sauces, cheese, and meats.

The key to any drink that works in the summer is having an almost bitter dryness, together with a refreshingly high acidity. That acidity and complexity is also necessary when pairing with food - and we need to eat in this heat too. The temperature of the drink is, to some extent, less important - if you're stuffing ice into a cider to cool you down, you may as well be drinking apple juice.

A Ridge Pilgrimage

Since moving to California, I've made lots of new discoveries but just as excitingly I've visited wineries I'd grown to love back in the UK, especially Tablas Creek in Paso Robles and Au Bon Climat in Santa Barbara. This week I finally made it to another iconic California winery, Ridge. Based south of San Francisco, Ridge are most famous for their Monte Bello - one of the world's greatest Cabernet Sauvignon blends - but also make wines rich in California heritage from old Zinfandel, Petite Sirah, and Carignan vines (just to emphasise their attachment to California's history, Ridge continue to spell it Carignane).

pilgrimage

Visiting Ridge's property near Cupertino/San José really felt like a pilgrimage. The winery is at the top of a steep mountain, reached by a long, narrow road full of hairpin bends that takes twenty minutes to drive up. Wild, isolated, and nearly 900m high, rattlesnakes slide through the grass, vines work the hard, rocky soil, and the views of Silicon Valley reveal a different side of California's culture.

history

The Monte Bello property dates back to 1882, but its modern history started in 1959 when three Stanford graduates made wine from Cabernet Sauvignon vines planted in the 1940s - still the basis of the Monte Bello Cabernet. They were joined by another Stanford graduate, Paul Draper, as winemaker in 1968, whose winemaking philosophy involved as little interference as possible. As well as Cabernet Sauvignon, since the 1960s Ridge have made Zinfandel planted on the property in the 1890s as well as more old-vine Zinfandel from Geyserville and Lytton Springs north in Sonoma County.

The 1971 Monte Bello Cabernet was one of the California wines featured in the 1976 Judgment of Paris, the American wine that organiser Steven Spurrier thought most likely to win. Although it did not do so, the more professional 2006 reenactment of the tasting featuring the same wines saw the wine unanimously come top.

zinfandel

I love Ridge's range of Zinfandels - probably the best in California - most of them single-vineyard wines from old vines. They represent an older side of California far removed from the modern style of winemaking that has emerged, particularly in Napa. Ridge call their winemaking "pre-industrial," making wines that have as little chemical or technological influence as possible, as they would have been made in the nineteenth century. This is certainly reflected in the Zinfandels; there is a raw, rustic quality to the wines, with fruits ripe but wild, tasting like they have just been picked off the ground. The tannins are dry and gripping, rather than overripe, giving the wines a structure not always found in other juicy, alcoholic Zins. And each Ridge Zinfandel is quite different, representative of the climate and soils of the vineyard. To add further to the individual character, the Zinfandels are most often a blend, changing each year, using other historic grapes such as Carignan, Petite Sirah, and Mataro (an old California and Australian name for Mourvèdre) to structure the fruity tendencies of Zinfandel.

wines tasted

2013 Estate Chardonnay ($50)

Although Ridge are known for their red wines, they also make a small amount of Chardonnay. For the estate wine, the grapes are grown lower down the hillside. The wine goes through full malolactic fermentation and is aged in oak (most of it used and American) and is aged on its lees, giving the wine rich, full flavours of butter, yoghurt, and dill, but there's a pleasing floral elegance to the wine as well as integrated ripe apple, lemon, and pineapple fruits. ✪✪✪✪

2007 Monte Bello Chardonnay ($85)

In exceptional years, Chardonnay is made from the Monte Bello vineyard (otherwise the grapes go into the Estate Chardonnay). This was a magnificent, mature wine, its slightly oxidised sherry aromas gradually subsiding as the wine opened up. The wine still had a rich, full creaminess to it, but with a nutty maturity added to the floral aromas. ✪✪✪✪✪✪

2013 Geyserville ($38)

As Zinfandel should be, this wine is aged in American oak (20% new) and is a blend of several different grapes just like the wines of the nineteenth century would have been: 73% Zinfandel, 17% Carignan, 9% Petite Sirah, and that all-important 1% Mataro. All the grapes come from old vines on the same three vineyards planted on a 30ha site. Dusty, dry, chewy tannins give a defining structure to the fruity black plums, cherries, and berries. ✪✪✪✪✪

2012 Merlot ($50)

Serious Merlot is becoming all too rare in California, so it was pleasing to taste this wine. The cool vineyards on the mountain lend the wine firm, gripping tannins, rather than the ripe, lush tannins often associated with Merlot. Beyond the tannins, there are ripe blackberries and blackcurrants, and subtle floral, herbal aromas. ✪✪✪✪✪

2012 Estate Cabernet Sauvignon ($50)

This is one of my favourite, good-value Cabernets (good value by California standards). Equivalent to a Bordeaux second wine, the grapes still come from the hillside vineyards, not quite good enough for the Monte Bello - which still means pretty damn good. The 2012 is still young, with the tannins a little too aggressive and drying. It needs at least another five years, when the tannins will have softened and integrated with the intense black fruits and floral aromas. ✪✪✪✪✪

2011 Monte Bello ($165)

The cooler 2011 vintage makes this more approachable than young Monte Bello often is. The tannins are a little softer, allowing a more immediate appreciation of the floral, herbal aromas on the nose and the balanced black fruits on the palate. The Monte Bello (the 2011 is 88% Cabernet Sauvignon, 8% Merlot, 4% Cabernet Franc) is one of California's most distinctive high-end wines. Aged in American oak, with a tender alcohol level of 12.8%, nothing quite compares to the delicate yet substantial, complex layers of flavours that the high-elevation vineyard produces. ✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

All this may seem like unthinking, gushing praise for the winery. After all, that's why one embarks on a pilgrimage: to give worship. Not all of Ridge's wines are without fault (while I was visiting, I had to explain why I didn't like the Buchignani Carignane that much) and I think they make a few too many Zinfandels (16). However, the overall standard of Ridge's wines are exceptional and the commitment to land and quality beyond reproach. Their best Zinfandels (particularly the Lytton Springs) are the finest California has to offer and the Monte Bello is one of the three greatest American Cabernets I have tasted. On top of a mountain overlooking the madding modernity of Silicon Valley and far, far from Napa, there is nowhere quite like Ridge.

Petite Sirah

Like Zinfandel, Petite Sirah is a Californian grape known for producing high-alcohol, fruity, extremely full-bodied wines. Again like Zinfandel, it's quite misunderstood: its origins are often confused, which leads to it not always been used correctly. It's taken me some time to appreciate the grape, but I feel serious, worthwhile versions are finally coming out of California.

the grape

Petite Sirah is known by that name in California, as well as Mexico and Argentina. It's been grown there since the nineteenth century, which is where the confusion starts. It was mostly grown as part of 'field blends' - vineyards where many grape varieties are grown - contributing tannins, fruit, and alcohol to that blend. It was also mostly grown by Italian immigrants for table wine, even though the grape has no Italian background. These field blends, based on traditional Italian practices of growing whatever was in the field, meant that no one really knew what was going into the wine. Even now, when much more is understood about the grape, 10% of grapes called Petite Sirah are something entirely different.

The name Petite Sirah also causes confusion. Introduced into California as Syrah, its name comes from its smaller berries. Petite Sirah is in actual fact a nineteenth-century French crossing between Syrah and Peloursin by a Dr. Durif. This crossing never took off in France where it is little grown; it is, however, grown in Australia where it is correctly called Durif after its maker. These wines are even bigger, fuller, and more intense than Shiraz, and provide a dark, bitter alternative to Australia's most famous export.

In California, Petite Sirah is still most often seen in blends. It may not seem apparent that Californian wines require more oomph and alcohol, but that's what Petite Sirah provides. Some wineries produce 100% Petite Sirah wines; my first impressions on tasting these were that they were far too big, jammy, and unsubtle. However, I have been increasingly impressed by some of the single-varietal wines I have tasted: big and bold, yes, but underpinned with complex bitter aromas quite different from other wines.

the wines

Chateau Montelena Petite Sirah 2009 14.5% ($35)

I visited Montelena last August and this was my first taste of a Californian 100% Petite Sirah. As big and aggressive as it was, I came away impressed by its substantial, uncompromising depth. With dark chocolate, black fruits, vanilla, and very chewy tannins, this is a wine that does not shy away.

Seghesio Il Cinghiale Petite Sirah 2010 14.8% ($38)

Seghesio are the ultimate example of an Italian-Californian winery. Established in the 1890s by an Italian immigrant, they still specialise in Italian varieties. Their flagship Zinfandel features around 10% Petite Sirah (Home Ranch Zinfandel, $58), and they make this appropriately named single-varietal (Il Cinghiale means wild boar). This is a big wine, spicy with chewy tannins and flavours of cocoa, blueberries, and black cherries. Even though Petite Sirah's origins are French, this wine feels like the wild south of Italy.

Nichelini Petite Sirah 2010 14.5% ($43)

Another producer with Italian origins dating back to the nineteenth century - Nichelini managed to work through Prohibition and are the Napa Valley's oldest continual winery. 2010 was a year with a hot spike but this Petite Sirah is more balanced compared to the Zinfandel (16.1%). Vibrant black fruits (blackberries, cherries, plums), with a spicy bitter chocolate and cocoa mouth.

m2 Petite Sirah 2009 14.9% ($33)

I picked this up in a farm shop on the Central Coast Delta near Lodi, without knowing much about it beyond its attractive label. It's from Clarksburg, a small AVA that's known mostly for its Chenin Blanc. The result is a seriously impressive wine, broad black fruits given structure by a well-integrated oakiness. I drank this with a spaghetti dish at home, further evidence of Petite Sirah's peculiar Italian nature.

Dutch Henry Petite Sirah 2008 ($60)

"Dutch Henry" was a nineteenth-century prospector and highwayman, giving his name to a canyon that lies behind this Calistoga winery that has to be visited just to meet the Airedale terriers. This Petite Sirah has big, ripe, almost jammy fruits, chocolate and coffee, but with a good structure, gripping tannins, and a grainy, oaky undertow. An impressive wine, although expensive at $60.

Quixote Petite Syrah (sic) 2002 14.4% ($110)

In the heart of Napa Valley is one of its most architecturally interesting wineries. It's also one that has always concentrated on Petite Sirah, producing serious, intense, ageworthy expressions of the grape that have fully convinced me of its potential. The 2002 is ageing extremely well: the nose is somewhat stinky, with hints of Brett, but smoky and earthy too. The palate is alive and complex, with plenty of black fruits and Petite Sirah's characteristic coffee and cocoa flavours. The acidity is still lively, the wine dark and spicy.

Looking back at my tasting notes for the Petite Sirahs I have encountered since August, the recurring words are "big," "chewy," and "cocoa." Expect big tannins, high alcohol, and unavoidable fruits; once you appreciate these elements, however, you understand its ageability, power, and depth. Not wines to be messed with, nor dismissed casually.

 

Zinfandel

Zinfandel is the all-American grape: big, bold, and brash. Up-front and fruity, it has nothing to hide and everything to say. It's high in alcohol (usually climbing above 15%), low in subtlety, screaming its California motto at you: "Go big or go home." All of this has made Zinfandel a very popular style of wine, its immediate flavours having an easy appeal that's hard to resist.

However, rather like Australian Shiraz, its appeal is also its downside. If you don't want a wine whose alcohol approaches the levels of fortified wine, then avoid Zinfandel. If you don't want a fruit bomb, then give Zinfandel a miss. If you want a structured, balanced wine, then don't stop at the Zinfandel shelf.

My travels around California have confirmed some of those impressions, but also challenged them. It's still nearly always high in alcohol and Zinfandel wouldn't be Zinfandel without its jammy black and blue fruits, but I've discovered plenty of serious wines with structure, depth, and ageability. Maybe because I've come to the wines quite fresh, I've often preferred Napa Zins to Cab Sabs - they're certainly more affordable.

where's it from?

The world came crashing in on the all-American grape in the 1990s when genetic fingerprinting proved that Zinfandel was the same grape as obscure, rustic Primitivo - rather like an American tycoon learning that they were descended from poor Italian immigrants...

It is, of course, impossible for Zinfandel to be an indigeneous American grape - all wine-producing vines are part of the vitis vinifera species which originates from Europe. Although Zinfandel was only known in California, it had to have come from Europe at some point. There are various theories about its origin, but the likelihood is that it was imported from Vienna by one George Gibbs late in the 1820s, making its way to California during the Gold Rush as Zinfandal. The grape itself doesn't originate from Italy, however, but Croatia. There's also a strong chance that Primitivo was imported into Italy by Italians returning home from California.

For all its genetic controversy, Zinfandel is now very much its own grape, grown in California for a hundred and fifty years, with nineteenth-century plantings still in use. During that time it's been soaked in California sunshine, reflecting the dry, dusty Californian terroir as well as time's changing fashions. 

Zinfandel in véraison, Calistoga

what does it taste like?

Due to its hardiness and popularity, Zinfandel is grown in areas that are too hot because it can cope with that heat and is overproduced because it has no problem providing high yields. That's where the image of Zinfandel as jammy and obvious comes from. The high alcohol has risen as the trend for rich, alcoholic wines has grown, although, as with other styles of wine in California, levels of alcohol are beginning to settle.

Whatever the style of Zinfandel, the black and blue fruits should be immediate, but serious examples of Zinfandel use American oak for up to two years, giving the wine real structure and balance, as well as adding a peppery spiciness.

There is also a phenomenon called White Zinfandel, which has further damaged the reputation of the grape if not producers' finances. Bob Trinchero of Sutter Home in Napa launched White Zinfandel in the 1970s and saw sales mushroom in the 80s; this resulted in increased plantings of the grape, which is one positive outcome. White Zinfandel is pink, sweet, and a tiny bit fizzy.

wines

Without doubt the greatest producer of Zinfandel in California is Ridge. Although they are based in Santa Cruz, their finest Zinfandels come from Lytton Springs and Geyserville in northern Sonoma. The best Napa and Sonoma Zinfandels come from high altitude areas that are hot during the day but cool at night, allowing the grape to ripen at a slow, steady pace. I haven't visited Ridge yet, but the Lytton Springs is one my favourite Californian wines, arguably besting even their own famous Cabernets. It's a great example of a big, powerful, unabashed wine that is still classically balanced. Here are some of the many Zinfandels I've tasted over the last two months.

Saddleback Old Vine Zinfandel 2012 ($40)

Most of the grapes for this wine are grown in hot Calistoga, the best area of the Napa Valley for Zinfandel. Like the rest of Saddleback's wines, this is a serious, oaky, tannic wine, but softened by the Zinfandel fruits (plums and blueberries). The only Saddleback red to be aged in American oak, the wine has distinct vanilla, chocolate, and coconut aromas, and is very spicy on the mouth with pepper and liquorice. Still young, with plenty of ageing potential.

Regusci Zinfandel 2010 ($60)

Regusci are the only winery in Stags Leap AVA to plant their own Zinfandel - there just isn't enough money compared to Cabernet Sauvignon to justify planting the grape in the heart of Napa Valley. The intensity of the wine is quite different from those grown at higher altitudes: besides the black and blue fruits, the nose is toasty, oaky, and peppery, with a spicy, dusty palate - it's the dust that marks it out as from the lower reaches of the valley.

Nichelini Reserve Zinfandel 2010 ($41)

Nichelini, Chiles Valley

Yet another old Italian family still using original plantings of the vine - the family have been making wine in the same spot since the 1890s, including through Prohibition. Nichelini are based high in Chiles Valley, where altitude again affects the character of the wine. This Zinfandel is not shy: from 2010, when an unexpected heat spike overripened the grapes, the wine comes to a whopping 16.1% ABV. It's big, spicy, and alcoholic: the pepper, liquorice, and alcohol leave the tongue burning. It may mellow out after a few years, but even after four it's a bit too much. Nichelini also make a Primitivo, which is a bit more mellow (although it was from the cooler 2011 vintage), its fruits more chocolatey; an interesting comparison.

Seghesio Rockpile Zinfandel 2012 ($38) & Home Ranch Zinfandel 2012 ($58)

Seghesio are a Sonoma producer who have made their name growing Italian grape varieties - they also make wines from Arneis, Vermentino, Barbera, Sangiovese, Aglianco, and Petite Sirah (a French grape known in France as Durif but often grown in California by Italian immigrants). Zinfandel was first planted by founder Edoardo Seghesio in 1895 on the Home Ranch vineyard, plantings which are still used today. Besides Home Ranch, Seghesio make several Zinfandels, all from vineyards throughout Sonoma County. My favourite is the Rockpile, from a small AVA where the vines must be above the fog level, attracting intense sunshine during the day but subject to cool nights - perfect for Zinfandel. It's a stony, floral wine, with subtle fruits on the nose; on the palate, it's more aggressive and oaky, with drying, slightly bitter tannins. Seghesio's premium wine, from the original Home Ranch vineyard, is serious, almost like a Cabernet Sauvignon on the nose. The palate is concentrated and complex, juicy, oaky, and spicy, with a particularly peppery finish.

Joseph Swan Stellwagen Zinfandel 2008 ($30)

Although Russian River Valley is best known for its Pinot Noirs and Chardonnays, it produces intense Zinfandels from select slopes. Joseph Swan make several single-vineyards Zins. The last ever vintage from the Stellwagen vineyard, this is a fruity, savoury wine, with vanilla, anise, and roses and violets adding a refined elegance.

When visiting the Joseph Swan winery, I couldn't resist buying one of their Zinfandels from 2001, for just $35. This is the first mature Zinfandel I've tasted: the rich black fruits were there, but were more dried and overladen with leather and game. Although Joseph Swan wines are unusual and generally come into their own with a bit of age, this was proof that Zinfandel is ageworthy, and not just a young, fruity wine to be drunk straightaway.

I've been tasting Zinfandel throughout my visits to different California wineries - more than any grape, it grows successfully in most areas. I've already reviewed the following wines on previous blogs from Laura Michael, Lone Madrone, and Pomar Junction.

From being somewhat sceptical of Zinfandel upon my arrival in California, I now look forward to tasting each winery's style and I'm disappointed if one isn't made. It's produced in different ways, from fruity and fun to oaky and serious, and you're never quite sure what you're going to get. As ever in California, terroir is key: it's at its best in high areas with significant variations in temperature from day to night, and it reflects the dusty intensity of California's summer heat. Zinfandel has so won me over as an expression of California, that the Saddleback Zin is going to feature at my wedding next week alongside Chardonnay and Rioja. I can think of no greater compliment than that.

California: First Impressions

For the next two months or so, much of this blog is going to be focused on California, whose wineries and regions I'll be visiting. I've been here exactly a week now, and here are some brief highlights before I get round to visiting some renowned wineries in the next few days.

climate

I'm staying in Napa where, no surprises, it's hot. Temperatures have regularly hit the mid-30s during the day, the sun intense and unfiltered by cloud. This is mitigated by the morning fog, which makes the beginning of the day disconcertingly cool. The fog, which rolls in from the Pacific Ocean across the Mayacamas mountains, is famous for allowing Napa Valley to make wines of world renown; what's actually more surprising is the diversity of climates in this part of California. Calistoga, 20 miles north of Napa, is even more blisteringly hot, yet winemakers often source their grapes from just across the mountains in Dry Creek Valley and Russian River Valley, where temperatures are several degrees cooler. These AVAs are in Sonoma County, the other side of the Mayacamas from Napa Valley, but much more exposed to the cooling ocean winds and fogs. I've tasted Cabernet Sauvignons and Zinfandels from Dry Creek Valley far less intense and more varied than their Napa equivalents, as well as cool, restrained Sonoma Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs. A weekend trip to the Sonoma coast, just over an hour's drive from Napa, made it evident why the region is capable of producing such classic styles of those grapes: the ocean coastline was constantly shrouded in fog and temperatures didn't rise above 20 degrees.

no vineyards here, but plenty of coastal fog

wines

August Briggs Leveroni Vineyard Chardonnay 2011 ($32*)

Calistoga is a sleepy, hot town straight from the wild west of the nineteenth century. The last thing I expected on stepping into a tasting room off the main street was a such a balanced, refined Chardonnay - which is because the grapes are from the Sonoma side of the Carneros AVA. Aged in 30% new French oak, with 50% malolactic fermentation, this is an understated Chardonnay yet one full of expressive flavour: stone and tropical fruits, particularly apricot and pineapple, with a creamy vanilla character, emphasised on the finish with cinnamon.

August Briggs is a winemaker who used to be a consultant elsewhere in California, as well as Oregon, before setting up his own winery in 1995. He sold the winery three years ago to three former employees, including his nephew, with the intention of retaining Briggs's principles. I also tasted three Pinot Noirs, all single-vineyard and completely different styles, as well as a Syrah from the Page Nord vineyard in Yountville and a Cabernet Sauvignon from Dry Creek Valley. Despite being based in Calistoga, none of the grapes was actually sourced from the area, instead from elsewhere in Napa and across the mountains in Sonoma. Without doubt, those from the cooler Sonoma AVAs were of greater interest.

Laura Michael Dry Creek Old Vines Mayo Family Vineyards Zinfandel 2010 ($35)

 

Laura Michael Oat Hill Estate Zinfandel 2011 ($45)

 

zinfandel in veraison at Laura Michael

Just a couple of minutes north of Calistoga, Laura Michael Wines is another winery that sources its grapes from all over Napa and Sonoma, though the best wine by far came from a vineyard just a few metres from the tasting room. There's a Chardonnay and a rosé (one of the few wineries I've visited that have any rosé left to taste), but the focus is on Zinfandel and Cabernet Sauvignon. The latter were all good, especially the Calistoga Barlow Vineyards ($52), but it was the two Zinfandels that shone.

I've always found it too easy to dismiss Zinfandel as too fruity, jammy, and alcoholic. Although the alcohol is still an issue (these two wines were 15% and 14.5% respectively), I've tasted some serious examples of Zinfandel over the last few months which have changed my mind about the grape. The Dry Creek had lots of immediate ripe fruits, as one would expect from a wine made from Zinfandel, but more red fruits than I was expecting (strawberry, cherry, plum, raspberry), and it was very spicy on the palate, with further oak-influenced vanilla and cream. As pleasing and surprising as this wine was, the Oat Hill Estate, from grapes grown at the winery, was stunning: a more sophisticated wine, perfumed and floral, with subtle but evident spices on the palate; fruits still ripe, but backed up with dry, gripping tannins. This has been aged in American oak (both new and old) for 19 months, giving real structure to the wine. From the hottest AVA of Napa, yet with a just about manageable alcohol.

Laura Michael is, and isn't, a person. The winery was until fairly recently called Zahtila Vineyards - established in 1999 by Laura and her husband. The couple later split, Laura keeping the winery. The name change came when she remarried her first husband, Michael, who now plays a major role in the day-to-day running of the winery. The wines are only sold at the winery or to wine club members: a real shame, for these are wines that deserve to be known.

every winery should have a dog

*California, like most other US states, lists prices before sales tax, meaning the advertised price is never the one you end up paying. 

Call in the Smoked Lancashire: Zinfandel, Primitivo, Malbec

A final blind tasting before starting the Diploma, featuring three varieties I don't drink that often. This lack of familiarity made distinguishing the wines hard - an equally unfamiliar @bleuettextiles was much more successful than I was. After tasting the wines, we tried them with three different cheeses; being Lancashire siblings, there was only going to be one winner there...

that's me in the corner

Pérez Cruz Cot 2011, Maipo Valley (hangingditch, £17.50)

Malbec is a French grape which was almost forgotten about until its fortunes were revived in Argentina. It's a grape suspectible to frost, which wiped out plantings in Bordeaux in 1956. Winemakers there gave up on the grape, but around the Dordogne town of Cahors winemakers continued to stand by it, making it the only Malbec-focused appellation in France. Since the 1500s, Cahors has been known as "the black wine" due to the dark colour and intense black fruit flavours (particularly damson) that come from the grape. 

In Cahors, and the Loire where it's also grown, it's not traditionally called Malbec, but Cot, which is what this Chilean Malbec has called itself, perhaps to distinguish it from its neighbours across the Andes, perhaps to make it seem more French, but certainly not for any discernible commercial reasons.

I mistook the wine for Zinfandel, because its upfront, jammy fruit flavours seemed more characteristic of that grape than Malbec. @bleuettextiles called it right, though, as she did all the wines; looking at my notes - "damson and mulberry" - I should have been able to work it out for myself. 

behind the tears sits a taster

Peachy Canyon Zinfandel 2011, Paso Robles (hangingditch, £18.50)

The signature grape of California, it came as a shock to their proud wine industry when in the 1990s it was discovered it was actually the same grape as an obscure variety called Primitivo, from unfashionable, arid, low-quality Puglia, in the heel of Italy. Despite that connection, Zinfandel remains archetypal California: big, fruity, with lots of alcohol. 

This one was more complex than that stereotype, though. Lots of ripe black fruits, but well integrated with the toasty oak to create a wine of real depth and structure - but still weighing in at a huge 15% ABV.

It's let down, though, by one of the worst wine labels I've ever seen (see photo below): "Peachy Canyon Incredible Red" on a pinky-crimson label with a poorly drawn winery. It really shouldn't be that difficult to create a more appropriate label for a quality wine. 

Pazzia Primitivo di Manduria 2010 (hangingditch, £30)

This was a serious wine from a region with a less than serious reputation: seriously austere label, seriously heavy bottle, and serious, restrained flavours. Such severity took a while to open up and reveal the best wine of the evening: dry, grainy, oaky tannins, black fruits, and dried and baked fruits, with mint and cloves. It's a wine that proves that Puglia is now capable of producing complex, high-quality wines.

It also felt very "Old World", while the Peachy Canyon was identifiably "New World". I really don't like those terms - any tradition of high-quality wines in Puglia is far younger than in California - but here these distinctions do make sense. The Californian Zinfandel was complex and involved, but its fruits were still up-front, whereas the fruits of the Puglia Primitivo were far more restrained, hidden behind the wine's oakiness. That certainly doesn't make one wine better than the other, but it does highlight the different approaches to making wine in different regions - and wineries - around the world.

congratulating herself on correctly identifying the wines

cheeses

I grabbed a packet of Grana Padano when in Sainsbury's just because it was Italian - would it work better with the Primitivo than the Zinfandel? Only when I got home did I discover that it's from the north of Italy, far from Puglia, making that question redundant. Hard and salty - not dissimilar to ungrated Parmesan - it didn't work with any of the wines, competing against the flavours (and it wasn't that great a cheese anyway). The Spanish Manchego, always a favourite wine cheese of mine, was creamier and sweeter than I'd had before and it didn't quite balance with the black fruits of the wines. Predictably, I started eulogising about testing it against a flight of sherries. I got that cheese at the Cheese Hamlet in Didsbury, as I did the Smoked Lancashire. Here, the smokiness and creamy crumbliness worked beautifully. The Malbec was a little smothered by the cheese, but the tannins and fruits of the Zinfandel and Primitivo were a great match. The Primitivo pairing worked especially well: the smoke and tannins wrapping themselves around each other, the fruits crumbling into the cheese. A taste of Lancashire and a flavour of Southern Italy: regional pairings aren't always the way to go. 

look at the Lancashire gently crumble under the Puglia...