The California Conundrum

So a lot of people have found it difficult to believe me when I tell them that the "New World" unit has been my most difficult so far. The assumption is that complex, foreign units, such as Italy and France, with thousands of rules and exceptions, would be the largest hurdle in wine school...but unfortunately I find them much simpler.

I think this issue is two fold...and important for people studying for the Court of Master Sommeliers Certified Exam. The first issue is completely a personal hurdle. I love Europe, I love European wine, I lived in Europe, I DRINK European wine. Despite living in California and being a full blown American patriot, Old World mystifies and captures my imagination on an unparalleled level. Not only does my proximity take away some of the Californian exoticism, but it just seems a bit drab in comparison to the grand chateaus of timeless terroir...

This is not saying that I dislike Californian wine...but I'm an earthy wine freak, and tend to steer clear of fruit driven California style of Pinot Noirs and Cabernet Sauvignons. And when it comes to chardonnay....let's just say I was the kid that always ordered sour patch kids instead of buttered popcorn at the cinema.

I think my greatest academic hurdle, and perhaps one shared with many others, lays in the lack of strict sub-regional regulation of American Viticultural Areas (AVAs). When studying the Old World, I find enormous amount of varying detail to be an advantage. Each small village has unique terroir, different permitted grapes, and strict, localized regulation. This creates a network of thousands of distinctive stories, which trigger memory for me easier than the standard "list" memorization. I can tell you all about different grand cru vineyards in Burgundy because one was bought to lay dormant for five years, one was completely replanted, one was just scandalously purchased by LVMH, and one is the oldest vineyard tied to Cisterian monks in the middle ages.

In California, and all over the United States, relatively loose regulations (compared to France, Italy and Spain) are intended to give wine makers the freedom to take advantage of a variety of difficult viticultural regions. It encourages enological creativity and viticultural experimentation, which can be good and bad. The fact that there are no quality regulations enforced through the AVA system means that the consumer must be greater educated as to producers and regional typicities.

Even when tasting, although regional styles can be quite synonymous, enological manipulation can create flavor profiles deceptive to the origin of the original vineyard.

There's a particular example I like to use to explain my difficulty studying California compared to France. I've never been a name person...and generally have had to ask people their names several times before committing it solidly to memory. Don't get me wrong...I listen and can tell them all about their grandmother's apple pie and gimpy french bulldog, Steve....but not their name after first meeting. With this in mind, studying the Old World, such as France, is like walking into the first day of class and meeting a classmate each from a different place, different backgrounds, and unique stories. I may not remember their names the first time, but stories such as their background, race, language, and hair color will help me remember it the second time. When I study California, I feel like I'm walking into that same classroom, except every person in the room is identical (aside from eye and hair color, perhaps).

Although there are unique qualities about each sub-AVA, these qualities are often similar across many. In cooler climates, pinot noir and chardonnay are almost always grown, where the hottest climates are generally reserved for thicker skinned varietals such as cabernet sauvignon. There are extinct volcanoes speckled along the coast, resulting in great amounts of volcanic bedrock in many of the regional AVAs. Higher elevations, generally, produce more rustic wines, where valley floor AVAs, generally, produce more elegant and supple examples.

Buckling down, doing ALL of the reading, and sleeping with my flashcards is certainly in my future. When you get to California, there's no way around it than Top Ramen and light-sore eyes from staring at the computer screen. On the plus side, they speak American!

Single life has me bound to celebrate Valentine's Day with copious amounts of pink bubbly, my pajamas and maybe some pink colored Italian flashcards...maybe I'll give them a cute Italian name like Francisco and Guiliani.......

Stay tuned for posts on cooking with sparkling wine...which seems to be in excess around here since the service exam is daunting!

Until next time, Chin-Chin!

When Color's Worth A Thousand Words

Color is a huge factor when blind tasting a wine. Color is hue, intensity, clarity...the whole gamut. This is a short post, but an interesting one for those who want to do more than just taste...

Color hints at may aspects of the wine, including age, winemaking, and grape variety. Clarity can range from opaque, to cloudy, to clear. Hues include purple, magenta, pink, garnet, ruby, orange, and more.

Without too much technical detail, it is extremely important to pay attention to these details when assessing wines. More delicate varietals such as pinot noir can be so clear that you can read through them, whereas some wines, such as Napa cabernet sauvignon or Northern Rhone syrah, can be so opaque that you can hardly see your finger through the glass.

When it comes to age, reds get lighter and whites get darker with age. Clear, straw colored young chardonnay will transform to a rich golden, almost brown color with age (if it's really brown its usually too old...). Reds in youth will be more purple, with age transforming violet hues to more ruby, and eventually garnet (red/orange brick) colors. Older wines can also tend to absorb more light, and sometimes even become dull...

The wines shown in the photo show the difference between a Beaujolais Nouveau and an aged Burgundy Pinot Noir. Beaujolais Nouveau, on the left, is extremely young wine, undergoing carbonic maceration, to produce youthful purple and magenta tones (the pinkish magenta is very common for wines going under carbonic maceration). The Pinot Noir, on the right, not only shows its typical varietal clarity, but shows age with subtle rim variation, as an orange-ish rim can be seen around the edge of the wine in the glass. This is a tell-tale sign of age, and is considered a solid garnet hue.

Color can sometimes be a product of oxidation, not age. Extensive oak barrel ageing or intentional oxidative viniculture styles can result in advanced color development without advanced age. Nebbiolo is the primary example of this, as young examples often display solid garnet, bordering orange hues.

Until next time, sip responsibly :) 

(It is Friday after all!)

If Your Cat Pissed In The Glass...

The title of this post is probably not the most appealing to the reader. For those of you who have never owned cats...it's a pretty horrible thing, cat piss. It might be the most pungent and unappealing smell in the domestic world of animals....but I digress.

This evening it was raining cats and dogs (reference was certainly intended) and so what is one car-less wine student to do?! Drink a lot of wine (duh). And so my California V. France comparative was born.

France and California pretty much represent the essence of Old World and New World rifts. Strict regulation versus encouraged vinicultural experimentation, earth versus fruit, medium versus high alcohol, the emphasis of terroir versus winemaker's personal style....I could go on, but why bore?

California is the PREMIER New World producer, as a state (alone) producing the fourth most amount of wine after France, Italy and Spain. The 1976 Paris Tasting put Napa on the map, and the rest is history. The California Northcoast AVA is center and leading force in New World wine, with nearby UC Davis acting as the leading researcher in vini/viticulture outside of Europe.

As much as I could go on about how far California has come, France remains the example for quality wine, regardless of style. With thousands of years of wine production behind them, tradition suits them well. The terroir is arguably the best on the planet, with many (if not the majority) of New World varieties originating from France. If California is the prodigal child, France is still Big Papa.

So back to the liquid stuff, I compared two sauvignon blancs. From France, I opened the Domaine de la Pauline Sancerre 2013, from the Central Vineyards in the Loire Valley. From California, I opened the Round Pond Estate Rutherford Sauvignon Blanc 2013. From both wines I got the varietally common factors of white grapefruit, cat piss (absolutely UNMISTAKABLE), grassy notes, and minerality. My tasting notes were as follows...

Domaine de la Pauline Sancerre 2013 
Aromas of white grapefruit with subtle kiwi, papaya and passionfruit. Reminiscent of catpiss, fresh green grass, white blossoms, chive and blanched asparagus. On the palate, candied grapefruit with hints of pineapple, apple pith, kiwi skin, freshly cleaned cantelope and dehydrated mango. Earthy, bitter grass with floral daisy, jalapeno, chive and floral stems, followed by a chalky minerality on the finish. The wine is bone dry and unoaked with solid acidity. I would love to pair with proscuitto wrapped cantelope, tropical fish dishes, or creamy cheese. Higher in acid and more delicate in flavor than its Californian cousin, I would try and match the more delicate flavors in the wine to aspects of a dish.

Round Pond Estate Rutherford Sauvignon Blanc 2013
Cat piss is evident on the nose, as well as waxy aromas of starfruit, oxidized apple, dried pineapple and overripe pear. Aromas are also reminiscent of a dusty chalkboard (when you get in trouble in school and are supposed to clean it...), leading me to call a dusty, chalky minerality. On the palate, a bitter honeydew melon, especially the rind, is on the front, followed by waxy, yellow grapefruit rind, grapefruit pith, underripe guava, and "pear sauce" (is that what you call apple sauce but with pears?). Dry grass, if not hay, is certainly present with (again) a floral stem flavor, with sandy, fertile earth and preserved, salty Morroccan lemon on the finish. This is a dry wine with solid acidity, but certainly more bitter in flavor than its French counterpart. I would pair this with a dish including honeydew melon, or a morroccan dish with preserved lemons as an ingredient. Alcohol was significantly higher than the French example, so I would consider full bodied and pair it with slightly heavier dishes.

Passed my French test this last Wednesday, thank goodness! One of the hardest blinds I have ever done, but the learning experience was well worth it. Halfway through the New World unit, and cannot wait to get to Australia and New Zealand at the end of next week.

Stay tuned for a lot more wine stuff...I can't afford to cook fancy food with these wine bills!!!! Please don't mistake that as complaining....life is good!

Made friends with the pastry chefs this weekend and got invited into the chocolate lab to taste all of their new confections. Definitely one of the most delectable cocoa experiences I have ever had...my favorite being the corn flake truffles!

Three cheers to all the amazing chefs and pastry chefs who keep my belly happy :)

Until next time, here's to natural irrigation (we sure needed it out here)!