Dave McIntyre's WineLine

More from Oz Clarke

When I wrote about my tasting party with Oz Clarke, the gregarious and hilarious British wine writer, several readers chastised me for not revealing Oz's reactions to the individual wines. So he was kind enough to send me some tasting notes of his favorites. Keep in mind that we tasted probably 30 or so wines that evening ranging up and down the East Coast of the US, but centered on the Mid-Atlantic region. Here are the ones that stuck in Oz's mind:

NASSAU VALLEY VINEYARDS (DELAWARE) CHARDONNAY  2006 AND CABERNET SAUVIGNON 2007

These Delaware wines were new to me. I really liked the lean, stoney fruit, even a little leafy in the red, and the restrained alcohol. I’d countenance a very light hand with the oak, but this is a promising newcomer.

BLACK ANKLE VINEYARDS VIOGNIER 2009 AND LEAF-STONE SYRAH 2008 (MARYLAND)

With a name like that, you just know I’m going to love the wines, though my fantasy about the exact turn of the black ankle may not be entirely based on fact. These are restrained, reserved styles from Frederick County in Maryland and good examples of Maryland’s late but youthful charge on the Eastern wine scene. Or should I say, re-charge; I have fond memories of Byrd Chardonnays from the 1980s.

MICHAEL SHAPS PETIT VERDOT 2005 (VIRGINIA)

Virginia just loves to play hard ball. Most wine regions steer well clear of Petit Verdot – too tricky to ripen, too tannic, can’t pronounce the name, blah, blah. But good ’ole Virginia thinks – hey. Warmish climate, humid, rain in the fall – Petit Verdot, thick skin to avoid rot, needs the heat. We can do that – and they do.  Lovely dark fruit, pleasant tannic grip, a smudge of oak. Welcome to your New World home, P-V.

HORTON VINEYARDS RKATSITELI RESERVE 2008 (VIRGINIA)

Now. Is that R silent? Some people call it Rekatsiteli, the Finger Lakes boys call it Arkatsiteli – but that R, – that P in Russian – isn’t it silent before a consonant? I learnt a bit of Russian – admittedly from a book published in the 1930s when presumably most decent Russian linguists had been incarcerated – so that I could sing Mussorgsky better. I then realised that Mussorgsky isn’t one of those guys you can sing better unless you’re born in deepest Siberia with a throat as wide as a 100-year-old pine tree trunk, so I sort of lost interest. But I still think the R/P question is silent before a consonant. I’m going to pronounce it Katsiteli. And Horton, God bless the fact that they’ve probably planted a row or two of every vine variety known to man – produce a really classic, full, apple puree example only matched in the East by Frank’s Finger Lakes classic that I tasted a few days later. 

SHINDIG 2009 (FINGER LAKES, NEW YORK)

For those toffee-noses who don’t believe the hybrids can do dick shit (sorry, ed - Note from Dave: That's OK, this is the Internet!) this mean, lean, chewy, apple skin and shimmering green flesh tongue scourer is 80% Vidal with a dash of Riesling to pull it towards the legit. side of the blanket.

BOXWOOD WINERY “BOXWOOD” 2007, (VIRGINIA) 

Well, some Virginian had to take on the twin Shibboleths of St-Emilion garagiste and Napa Titan. It’s pretty good if that’s your thing – and Virginia is sort of equidistant, so it should be good. (Note from Dave: Boxwood does two red blends: Topiary, which is modeled after St. Emilion - half merlot, half cabernet franc - and Boxwood, which follows a Left Bank recipe based on cabernet sauvignon, merlot and petit verdot. We tasted the Boxwood, because that’s the one I had on hand, but Oz can be forgiven for mixing them up slightly given the sheer number of wines we tasted that night. Besides, we probably talked about the Topiary and how that is the most popular of the two.)

BILTMORE RESERVE CHARDONNAY 2008, (NORTH CAROLINA)

I’ve been looking at photos of that damned railroad pile for so long, and at last I taste the wine. Intair-es-ting. Here come de Judge. (Note from Dave: I don’t understand this. But the wine was pretty good!)

  

Bien Nacido - An Iconic American Vineyard

California does not have storied vineyards such as Clos de Vougeot or Romanee-Conti in Burgundy, Clos Ste. Hune in Alsace and Clos du Mesnil in Champagne. Certain vineyards, however, have performed superbly enough - if over decades rather than centuries - to earn them special status as America's premier vineyards. One of those is Bien Nacido, at the northern end of the San Rafael Mountains in the Santa Maria Valley of Santa Barbara County.

The Miller family has owned this historic property - once part of a Spanish land grant - since the late 1960s, and they have carefully farmed it and helped build its reputation for premium wine grapes. But they have never made their own wine - until now. This year they will release their first bottlings under their own label.

I got an early taste when I visited the vineyard earlier this year. You can read about it in my feature in today's Washington Post Food section.

Wine Camp, and Other Ideas

Over Christmas weekend, my family held our annual "Wine Camp." This is an extremely vinonerdy exercise in which we pour several wines blind and say, "Tell me what this is." Over the years, it has taken on an air of one-upsmanship and competition, and it is always a helluva lot of fun.

My main protagonists are Dave Johnson and Ed Oldfield. Dave is my brother-in-law's brother-in-law, a relation twice-removed by marriage; Ed is Dave's close friend. Both are prominent doctors in the Hampton Roads-Norfolk region as well as avid wine collectors. They both are extremely skilled at finding exclusive wines of small production and (usually) high point scores that are not widely available - their network of retailers and winemakers across the country is impressive. One year, Dave wowed us with a $20 Aussie Shiraz that had everyone opening their wallets, while Ed, a devoted Dooniac, stunned with a bottle of 1984 Bonny Doon Vin Gris de Cigare - the inaugural vintage of the original Rhone Ranger wine.

Naturally, I can't compete in this crowd, so I bring outlandish wines that no one will expect. Last Spring, I surprised Dave and Ed with a delicious Dragon's Hollow Chardonnay from China, of all places. (Being a wine writer gives me the advantage of some unusual samples.)

This year's lineup included Isabel Sauvignon Blanc 2002 from New Zealand, still showing well without the stewed asparagus flavors old NZ SB can get. A 2000 Hunter Valley Semillon from Rothbury Wine Scoiety (my offering) was not as fully developed as I would have liked; it had appealing lime flavors and still tasted young, but was not harmonious. (I went back to it 3 hours later and thought it delicious, but by then I had been enjoying about ..... THIS many wines, so who knows?)

Dave then opened a 2006 Poets Leap Carmina Burana Cask Aged Riesling from the Long Shadows project in Washington state's Columbia Valley. I guessed the wine and the winery, but only because its Riesling character was obvious and I knew Dave's fondness for Long Shadows. (It pays to know your adversary!) Ed then opened a Retour Pinot Noir 2007 from Oregon, which matched nicely the Carabella 2005 I had brought.

You get the picture - the evening continued through the 2005 and 1996 Quilceda Creek Cabernets, and a Cab Franc comparison of Horton Vineyards "Tower Series"2007 and a 1985 Channing Road from Napa. Ed showed his Doon colors with a 1986 Old Telegram.

I had a surprise wine in reserve and was despairing that the evening was getting late and I wouldn't be able to present it against so many stellar, older wines. Then Dave brought out a young California Syrah, a Tensley 2008 Colson Canyon - lush and opulent with abundant fruit and high alcohol (over 15%) noticeable but not enough to dominate the wine. I saw my chance and brought out my ringer. It was similar, and yet clearly different in style - more earthy and dense, less obviously fruity than the Tensley. Dave and Ed immediately pegged it as Syrah, young, aged in French oak, and from California. My brother-in-law thought Washington state, figuring the concentration in the wine indicated Columbia Valley.

"You are all right except for one detail," I said, pulling the bag off the bottle. "It's from Maryland." I showed them the Black Ankle Vineyards 2007 Leaf Stone Syrah.

Such games are not what wine is all about, but they are devilishly fun and a great way to experience wine. I suggest some other ways of exploring the grape in my column today in The Washington Post, along with my monthly Recession Buster recommendations.

Black Ankle Goes to Bethesda

Fans of the Bethesda Central Farm Market will have a chance to taste some local wine with all that local produce this Sunday, Sept. 13, from 9 am to 1 pm, when Black Ankle Vineyards will be pouring and selling their new Leaf Stone Syrah. According to market organizer Mitch Berliner, it is the first time a winery has been allowed to participate in a farm market in Maryland.

That may seem strange, considering a vineyard is nothing if not a farm. But of course, we’re talking alcoholic beverage here, so the laws and politics are different.

Berliner said he wanted wineries to participate in his market because wine should be part of the “eat local” movement. He picked a good winery to feature – Black Ankle just won the Maryland Governor’s Cup for the second year in a row with its 2007 Crumbling Rock, a Bordeaux-styled blend. Not bad for a winery that just opened its doors in 2007. The 2006 Crumbling Rock won the Governor’s Cup last year.

The 2007 Leaf Stone Syrah is no wallflower – it took “Best of Category” as best syrah in the recent Atlantic Seaboard WIne Competition, and created quite a buzz among the judges, including me. (“Leaf Stone” is another way of saying “Crumbling Rock,” and is emblematic of the soil at the Black Ankle vineyards, near Mt. Airy.)

As I wrote about Black Ankle a year ago in The Washington Post: “This is not your father’s Maryland wine.”

Don’t miss this chance to taste the wine, because you won’t see Ed Boyce and Sarah O’Herron, the husband-and-wife team behind the winery, at the farm market on a regular basis. Maryland law only allows a winery three special permits per county per year, and this is using up one of Black Ankle’s, Boyce said.

Berliner hopes to change that when the Maryland legislature convenes in January. It could be an exciting year for Maryland wine lovers, with hopes high that the legislature will also ease restrictions on having wine shipped directly to consumers’ homes.

For now, though, taste the Leaf Stone Syrah on Sunday. If it catches your fancy, there will also be a Farm Market dinner on Monday, Sept. 14, at Redwood restaurant in Bethesda Row, featuring Black Ankle wines. Cost is $75 per person.

For more info: http://www.bethesdacentralfarmmarket.com/ and http://www.blackankle.com/

Drink Local Wine Conference Opens

The First Ever DrinkLocalWine.com Conference opened Friday night in Dallas, with a gala dinner at Le Cordon Bleu. About 40 participants (more are expected at Saturday’s sessions) enjoyed seared scallops, roast chicken breast, flatiron steak and a decadent choco-chocolate dessert, all paired with some of the best wines of Texas.

I can hear you saying, “The best wines of Texas???” Well – yeah! Texas has nearly 180 wineries, and while the wines may not get far outside the state, some of them are indeed quite good. I was particularly taken by the Brennan Vineyards 2008 Viognier – classically styled, not in the floral manner – and its 2006 Syrah, a kickass red that had impeccable balance and a hint of the bacon fat aromas of the Northern Rhone. Flat Creek’s “Super Texan” sangiovese-based blend was also excellent – the 2008, bottled just Wednesday so not yet showing all its stuff. McPherson Cellars also poured a delicious Rhone-style red made from grenache and mourvedre.

There were some non-Texan wines, too. Doug Caskey of Colorado brought a delightful Boulder Creek Syrah, and Richard Leahy brought something from Indiana that I forgot to write down - it was a dry white in the traminette vein - flowery and intensely aromatic. Delish. And the Michael Shaps 2005 Petit Verdot from Virginia impressed several of the tasters who were lucky enough to snag a sip with what this Bordeaux grape can do in the Old Dominion.

There will be more on Saturday, as local  wine enthusiasts, writers and bloggers from Colorado, Maryland, Virginia, New York, Georgia, Missouri and other states get all geeky about what’s going on “around here.”

And don’t forget the Texas Twitter Tasteoff! You can follow the events on Twitter at #DLW09 …

Photo: The Cordon Bleu Chefs put on a culinary show to do Texas proud.

Bad Mood, Continued

Tasted more American syrahs tonight. I really want to like these wines, but at the very best I find them …. meh. I opened four, then three more. Some nice herbal aromas from a Sonoma entrant, but it was still syrupy. A Santa Barbara County wine clocked in at a surprisingly modest 13% alcohol – it even had aromas! Its body was lighter, more balanced, and there was a hint of … something positive on the palate. Nice, not exciting. And still not particularly interesting.

For dinner, we had this simple braised dish my Taiwanese mother-in-law makes. It’s the cheapest cut of beef – from the back of the leg – and is ribboned with gristle. She braises it for hours in red wine (a reject from my last column, most likely), ginger, soy sauce and star anise. The meat ends up succulent and tender, the gristle very visible but pure gelatin and very easy to eat. It seemed a perfect dish for syrah.

So I went downstairs and found a Salice Salentino, from Cantele, 2003 (Vias Imports). It was delightful – bright spicy fruit, light body, lots of life, unlike those leaden US syrahs.

After dinner we tasted the syrahs again. A few of them were a tad more aromatic, more balanced, having wakened and stretched their limbs. Still, it wasn’t what we were looking for.

So I went to my cellar and pulled out a bottle of Crozes-Hermitage I’d purchased for $18 a few years ago from a trusted retailer.  I think he said. “That’s fantastic, and those are my last two bottles!” It was a 2003, from an importer I know and respect. So I bought them. We opened it with anticipation, expecting it to blow the American pretenders out of the competition.

I poured. I swirled. I sniffed, expecting to smell smoked bacon, earth and leaves, classic aromas of a northern Rhone syrah. The wine smelled …. like low tide. Clams. Sea water. Putrid seaweed. I swirled again, with vigor. Some herbs? A hint of meat? A taste. It was okay, but nothing to swoon over, nothing to spend $18 on either.

I willed that Crozes to be good. But after a few minutes the marine qualities were simply overwhelming. Was this a really crappy wine, or is it just going through its awkward teen years, shedding the adorable baby fat of its youth, but not yet overcoming its acne to reach its full potential as an adult?

And if I’m to be that charitable to the Crozes, what of those American wines? Perhaps I can’t recognize potential? Or are they truly mediocre wines?

Maybe I’ll never know. But these wines have had an unusual effect on me. I want to go to bed early.

Bad Mood

I’m in a bad mood tonight. I’ve been tasting American syrahs. I’d looked forward to exploring these wines ever since my last visit to Dry Creek Valley in 2006, when I tasted a few that shone with bright blueberry flavors, velvety texture, and enticing balance.

So now I wanted to see if syrah has indeed found its voice in the United States. And it has. It sings like Aunt Jemima. Or Mrs. Butterworth.

These wines taste like pancake syrup. They are thick, viscous behemoths that typically top 15% alcohol. Flavors are … heavy … maple, mocha, some fruit masked underneath, but it is overwhelmed by something – and I believe that something is the alcohol.

I’ve found a few that I like, but none that I love. I opened six tonight, from California, Oregon, and Washington. There wasn’t a dog in the bunch, but none I wanted to curl up with and just finish the bottle either.

Sigh … guess I’ll have to try some more tomorrow.